So Many Dreams on the Shelf
by ValidEntry
Summary: Quinn wants to forget she loves Rachel.  Rachel wants to remember if she loves Quinn. - FABERRY
1. 1  What Quinn Discovers

Quinn Fabray did not possess an adventurous spirit. Sure, she had been a cheerleader. One of the girls flung so high in the air it almost seemed like a trick of the eye to those in the stands. She could've fallen at any point. Could've died. Yet Quinn always felt in control as a cheerleader, even when she had to rely on someone else to catch her. Because Quinn knew the chorography (had helped created much of it) and there were no surprises. No false moves. There was little in life that Quinn Fabray liked better than structure and routine. And control.

Quinn Fabray craved control like it was edible. She did not even bother to savor the control. She was like a starved woman fresh from captivity: She gobbled up control without considering the consequences…or who she might hurt, including herself. Quinn was the proverbial baseball player who waves his arms at his teammates and calls them away from the ball with the shout of "mine!" and an outstretched glove. Quinn always wanted to catch the ball. Keep it as her own. She was like that with things and she was like that with people. In the end, she could really see no difference between the two.

At any point when Quinn felt her control slipping from her, she'd imagine herself inside a magic, unbreakable bubble. A bubble big and roomy and comfortable enough for just one: Someone could circle around the bubble and even talk to (and hear) Quinn, but no one could touch her. She thinks she may have been ten or eleven when the bubble idea first came to her. A boy pushed her on the playground and she'd gone down in a heap; it was almost comical in nature. Quinn heaved herself to her feet amidst the laughter of the other children and, instead of tracking down the boy to deck him, she simply created an imaginary force field around herself. So, if someone were to push Quinn now, they'd only make an indentation in the bubble. You cannot quite reach her. And that was all well and good, Quinn believed.

It was with no short amount of incredulity that – at the age of fifteen – Rachel Berry very nearly burst through Quinn's bubble. Quinn was new to the school and Rachel, ever looking for something to put on her resume, was a school volunteer assigned to show Quinn around. Rachel was lively, excitable, and…cute. Yeah, definitely cute. The fact that she found another girl attractive did not startle Quinn in the least. She'd been attracted to girls before: A fellow cheerleader at her old school, a random girl who worked in the movie theater, various celebrities.

Quinn always stopped it at the level of attraction. She could think another woman was pretty, even desirable. Yet she had no _desire _to explore just why she found certain women _desirable_. She never allowed herself to think of what it might be like to, say, kiss a girl. Until Rachel Berry. She'd only known Rachel for a couple of weeks when, out of left field, Quinn had the urge to lean down and kiss Rachel in the middle of the hallway. The thought alone, much less the implications, startled Quinn so badly that, had she been that proverbial baseball player, she would have dropped the ball for sure. She recovered quickly. She blinked several times rapidly and took a step back from Rachel. It was at that moment Quinn discovered that Rachel could make her feel uneasy and unsure. Quinn didn't like that very much. Or at all, in fairness.

So Quinn did what she could to distance herself from Rachel. I mean, she'd only known the girl for a couple of weeks and they didn't really hang out very much, even though she spoke with Rachel every day at school. Quinn had no intention of developing a friendship with Rachel. Rachel kept approaching Quinn for conversation day by day, oblivious to the reason Quinn tried to keep her distance. One day – another day in which Quinn wanted to just bend down and kiss Rachel so hard that she could crawl inside her – Rachel was prattling on about the genius of Streisand while Quinn was staring and staring and staring at Rachel's lips. It occurred to Quinn at that moment that Rachel might think they were friends, or at least becoming friends. Why else would she approach Quinn every day at school? Quinn stopped and turned so quickly to meet Rachel face to face that it nearly gave her whiplash.

"Look, Rachel, I get that you feel like you have to take me under your wing, or whatever. But I think I got this whole school thing down. You should probably be on your way. You know, back to your life and friends?"

Rachel quickly launched a counterattack: "Quinn…I think you misunderstand. Yes, I was chosen to show you around the school but now I feel as if we could be good friends. You seem quite…"

Quinn cut her off. "Rachel, I'm a cheerleader now. You, you are…well…not. We have nothing in common. Leave me be!" And with that, Quinn Fabray left a stunned Rachel Berry behind for the first time of many.

Just because Quinn and Rachel now rarely saw each other and spoke even less, the discoveries of just what Rachel made her feel were a constant in Quinn's life. She recalls, for instance, hearing Rachel sing for the first time. This was before Mr. Schue started Glee club. Quinn had been walking around the hallways of McKinley, idling killing time before cheerleading practice, when she heard singing coming from the auditorium. Now, Quinn had never heard Rachel sing, didn't even know Rachel could sing – but she'd recognize that voice anywhere. She stopped to listen even though she knew it would make her late for practice. Quinn arrived to practice so emotionally charged from hearing Rachel sing that she did not even care that Coach yelled and berated her for a solid ten minutes. Quinn did not mind that Coach made her run extra laps. As she went round and round the track, she had a song in her heart, and Rachel Berry was the one singing that song.

Quinn figured out that Rachel could cause her irrational, dangerous amounts of jealously when Quinn kept catching Rachel giving Finn Hudson love-sick puppy dog looks at the beginning of sophomore year. Quinn's response was to date Finn herself – to wave her hands in the air and scream "mine!" while she snatched Finn inside her glove.

Quinn discovered that Rachel could hurt her – really, really hurt her – after Rachel's little heart-to-heart with her about possible diseases associated with babies with Jewish parents. Quinn lay awake for two nights wondering how to have those tests done. How could she pay for them? What did Rachel say those diseases were even called, anyway? Should she enlist Noah Puckerman's help, since he was the actual father? When Quinn learned that Rachel told Finn the truth about her baby's paternity, she almost immediately understood Rachel's true intentions during their locker "Your baby could have genetic diseases…ever thought about having tests done?" conversation. Quinn felt the bubble around her tremble so violently that it took everything within her not to cry right on the spot. She wanted to throw herself to the ground – bubble be damned! – and shatter. It was like she was on that playground again as a child. The only difference was, this time, Rachel was the one who had pushed her.

When Rachel came to apologize to Quinn about telling Finn the truth was the exact point in time when Quinn discovered that she loved Rachel. She knew this because even though Rachel injured her in the name of Finn Hudson…Quinn could not feel anger or hate or rage toward the other girl. She only felt numb and scared and alone. She wanted Rachel to hold her. She wanted to kiss Rachel until she melted into the other girl and the pain stopped. Or at least slowed. So, Quinn just told Rachel little bits of the truth: She wasn't mad at her. Rachel was brave to tell the truth. She almost said, "I love you for that" before realizing that she couldn't tell Rachel she loved her at all.

Quinn wanted it to be Rachel with her when she gave birth. Even during the worst of her labor pains she kept going back and back to how upset she was that Rachel stayed behind at Sectionals just to watch some stupid boy perform. If Rachel had been with Quinn: How would that scene have played out? Quinn, during the days after Beth's birth, thought about Rachel a lot. It helped her not to think of Beth. Would she have asked to hold Rachel's hand during delivery? Would Rachel have been protective over her and a calming presence?

In the months after Beth's birth, Quinn felt herself fall inside her bubble more often. She was even thinking of re-decorating the space. Yet always, always there was Rachel. Her junior year seemed to speed by and crawl along at the same rate. She just felt off. It was eerie. She was still popular. She acquired a new boyfriend, Sam Evans, because controlling him was so easy that it would have pained her had it not been second nature at this point. Yet always, always there was Rachel. Quinn strongly believed that after giving up Beth, she deserved punishment. She thought, maybe, she'd just stay here in this hick town and eventually marry Finn – if nothing else so she could hamper Rachel's obsession with the boy – and live a life of obscurity. She thought that was what she deserved to the point where it became what she wanted. She went after Finn again. Might as well get that piece of the puzzle in place. Yet always, always there was Rachel.

Quinn found herself one day so desperate for Rachel that she was able to share more silvers of the truth with her. "You are too good for this town. You are meant for better things. Just give me Finn. He'll hold you back," she yelled at Rachel during their original song brainstorming session. She knew the moment did not call for screaming, but it helped Quinn better block out the thoughts in her mind: Tell her that you would hold her back, too, because if you were to ever have her…you'd never let go. You'd cling to her. You'd ask her not to go away. Quinn never once thought of the alternative: That if Rachel left, Quinn could go with her.

If it was always, always Rachel then it was also always, always Finn. Rachel mooned over him. She fawned over him. It enraged Quinn. The tipping point was junior prom. Finn left her standing adrift on the dance floor so he could lumber over to Rachel and Jesse St. James – him again! – to confront them. The following moments were a loud blur of music and shoving and shouts. She found it hard to fully wrap her mind around what was happening. Quinn next remembers reaching around to slap Rachel after the girl followed her to the bathroom. She slapped Rachel for a lot of reasons: Because Rachel wanted Finn so badly, because Quinn wanted Rachel so badly, because Quinn's love for Rachel felt so brutal that she wanted the other girl to taste a little bit of it. The slap shocked Quinn to tears. She allowed Rachel to dry her eyes. For a moment, she almost wanted to slap Rachel again for being so damn understanding about the slap. Fuck it, if it didn't make Quinn love Rachel even more. Rachel dried Quinn's tears and at the same time, she unknowingly took from her another piece of Quinn's heart.

Quinn kept going back to that moment at prom. She thought about it a lot the day Finn finally, thankfully broke it off with her. She thought about it as she packed for the Glee club trip. She thought about it on the plane to New York for Nationals. She thought about it as she looked at herself in the mirror in the hotel bathroom, alone in the room since the other girls were out sightseeing. New York had made Quinn feel alive. Quinn could live in a place like this: Everything was so much bigger, brighter, better. Quinn felt that New York was calling to her…just like it called to Rachel. If Rachel was willing to answer that call, why not Quinn? This is how Quinn came to find herself alone, staring at her reflection with the thought that telling Rachel that she loved her might be a good idea instead of a really bad one. After all, why not take a chance? They'd only be stuck in Lima for one more year. There was a whole world out there for them – maybe they might not even end up in New York! Maybe they'd decide to travel abroad for a year instead. Or something else altogether! The possibilities made Quinn's mind whirl and her face break out into a goofy grin. Quinn turned to the bathroom door, intent to find Rachel and spew word vomit all over her when Santana abruptly knocked on the door.

"Let us inside!" Santana shouted at Quinn.

Quinn threw the door open and brushed past Santana and Brittany. "Wow, geez, Quinn what is with the rush?" Santana questioned brusquely.

"Have you seen Rachel?" Quinn responded.

"Are you still bitching about Rachel? Honest to God, you have got to let it go. So what if Finn dumped your ass…get…over…it! Don't fuck Nationals for the rest of us. Can you try not to hassle the midget until we get home?" Santana lectured at Quinn.

"I…I…have to talk to her about lyrics. Think I might have some good ones. I promise I'm not going to yell at her."

Brittany spoke up, "She just went out to meet Finn."

Quinn could almost hear her heart stop. "Meet him for what reason, exactly?"

"Dunno." Brittany shrugged her shoulders and added, "Finn told her to dress up and meet him at some fancy restaurant."

Quinn turned toward the window and prayed the sun might blind her before the tears overwhelmed her. Rachel and Finn were going on a date. Unbelievable yet highly believable just the same. Quinn found the moment almost humorous because, really, how could she have been so naïve? Of course Finn would take this time in New York to woo Rachel. It was always, always Rachel. It was always, always Finn. Quinn could not believe she had almost gone to tell Rachel – fucking tell her! – how she felt. She had let the headiness of New York nearly ruin her life. She slowly turned back to Santana and Brittany.

"I thought we were supposed to be the popular girls?" She all but spit on the two girls as her voice nearly broke from the strain of speaking. She kept going back to this theme of popularity. It was never about the popularity, not since she'd known Rachel, but it made for a good crutch. Quinn broke down in tears as a stunned Santana and Brittany gathered her in their arms and tried to soothe her.

She allowed Santana and Brittany to cut her hair. They lost Nationals. She endured the Rachel and Finn kiss by glaring into one of the spotlights so long that she was still seeing dots behind her eyes a few hours later. She held Santana back when she launched herself at Rachel due to their loss at Nationals because, instinctively, she didn't want anyone to hurt Rachel. After that encounter, the Glee kids scattered. They were eager to spend their last night in New York savoring the sights and absorbing their loss. Rachel cornered Quinn just before Quinn could walk out the door.

"Quinn, I wanted to thank you for helping to hold Santana back. I know this is a highly emotional and turbulent time for all of us and…"

Quinn cut her off. "Next time, Rachel, why don't you get your lug of a boyfriend to fight your battles for you? I'm not sure why you think I was holding Santana back for you. I just don't want Santana to get into any more trouble. And for someone who really, really wanted to win Nationals, you sure didn't show it on stage. I should've just let Santana at you. What you did on stage was disgusting !" Quinn threw the door open and left Rachel behind. Quinn didn't look back, or she would have seen Rachel crumple to the ground in tears. She did hear the tell-tale whimper that accompanied a fit of crying. Yet she would not allow herself to go back inside that room. Quinn vowed never to turn back when it came to Rachel Berry.

Quinn spent the summer before her senior year regretting her temporary bout of insanity at thinking she could be anything other than a Lima Loser. She started hanging out with a crowd of losers just to drive home her point. She got a nose ring. She dyed her hair pink. She got a tattoo and was proud of herself for not once flinching during the process. This version of Quinn was hell-bent on not ever letting Rachel get to her again. She quit Glee club by way of e-mail to Mr. Schue a day before classes started. This way she wouldn't even have to see Rachel except in passing. Having not been around Rachel all summer, she didn't want any temptation to seep back inside her bubble.

She sauntered down the hallway on the first day of senior year. She could feel the stares of the students. She just kept moving. Puck tried to say something to her, but she ignored him. She just kept moving. A boy she did not recognize whistled lowly under his breath. She just kept moving. Brittany tried to reach out and touch her hair. She just kept moving. Rachel let out a loud, almost theatrical gasp when she first noticed Quinn. She just kept moving. She heard Rachel call out her name, but just like three months ago in New York, Quinn vowed never to turn back when it came to Rachel Berry.


	2. 2  Follow the Leader

Rachel Berry believed she possessed the skills of a leader. She was not a follower, not Rachel Berry. She felt it from the pit of her stomach to the back of her eyelids that she was going places in life. She knew this because her Dad and Daddy told her so after she won her first singing competition when she was five. "Rachel, you are going places, sweet pea, just you wait!" Her Dad exclaimed while her Daddy nodded enthusiastically and swept Rachel up into a hug. Rachel did not really know how to get to these places, but she figured she'd sort out the directions eventually.

Rachel's childhood was a happy one. Her house filled with music and the flirty laughter shared by her fathers. Her days spent running around on playgrounds and digging castles in the sand: Her boundless enthusiasm a magnet for the neighborhood children. Rachel's Dad and Daddy made her feel secure, encouraged, deeply loved. Her singing talent and drive propelled her forward and, by the time Rachel was thirteen, her fathers converted the downstairs den into a Rachel Berry shrine of sorts. After all, Rachel won so many trophies and ribbons and framed certificates of achievement that they had to put them somewhere. And Rachel's room was no longer an option after she persuaded her fathers to buy her an elliptical machine. A star must have the body to match the talent.

Rachel held onto her view of the world as inviting and clearly infatuated with her talents – not just any girl received so many awards that it warranted a room to house them – until freshman year in high school. It seemed to Rachel as if that was when her life actually began. Her time in the spotlight with applause raining down and accolades sliding off the tongues of others was a fantasy, she decided. Two cherry slushies thrown on her at the end of the second week of school cemented her new reality. Her peers, once her playground and neighborhood friends, for the most part now shunned her. Where once they found her excitable nature infectious, they now regarded it as draining and annoying.

Rachel's defense was to carry on as normal. She remained bubbly, outwardly optimistic, and sure of her talents. She volunteered for every school activity for which she even remotely met the requirements. Yes, she should join the Black Student Union since she wanted to honor the heritage of her father. Yes, she should join the Renaissance Club because those students truly needed her help in learning how to properly add Old Latin flair to their song selection. Yes, she should join the track team as the inspirational leader of the group. Rachel believed there was no better motivational tool than the power of her voice to speed the runners to victory.

When one by one the clubs kicked her out, she adapted easily and came up with a new tactic. She'd form a club of her own…and the only member she needed to that end was herself. She approached Principal Figgins with the idea of creating a welcoming committee of sorts for incoming students. Figgins approved her idea immediately: He'd had enough of teacher and student complaints about Rachel brashly infiltrating school groups. He reckoned that no one could grumble about Rachel being in this group since she was the only member.

Exactly one week after Rachel's conversation with Figgins, her "club" welcomed its first assignment. Rachel re-read the note from Principal Figgins as she bounded down the hallway of McKinley. She was on the lookout for a female transfer student, name Quinn Fabray, locker number 213. Rachel rounded the corner and glanced toward locker 213. She stopped walking as soon as her eyes connected to the blonde girl now putting books inside her locker. Rachel watched the girl's fingers gracefully navigate from book bag to locker and back again. She swallowed hard, picked up her right foot and set it forward, and marched closer to locker 213. Rachel was on the verge of speaking to Quinn when the girl glanced up and past Rachel's head. As Rachel walked right toward locker 213, she was for the first time able to fully take in the hazel of Quinn's eyes, the angular, strong line of her jaw, the waves that curled in her hair. Rachel sped past Quinn, took the next left down the hall, and went to class early.

"So much for being a leader," Rachel whispered to herself as she sat down in class approximately ten full minutes ahead of schedule.

That night Rachel was beyond sleep and wrapped in her thoughts. Quinn, Rachel quickly determined, was one of those girls so pretty that it made you hate yourself for not being as beautiful. Quinn's beauty embarrassed Rachel and made her feel awkward. Rachel was hyperaware of these types of feelings. It was just last year that she experienced something similar. Her Dad and Daddy went away for a weekend conference – usually one of them stayed behind if the other had to leave town for work. In their sweet but overprotective way, a full month in advance of their trip they asked their Rabbi if she knew of any good babysitters over the age of eighteen. Rachel vehemently protested the arrangement for a solid week before the trip…right up until her Daddy opened the door and Rachel saw the girl hired to babysit her. Rachel's mouth shut and her chest tightened. This, this girl was stunningly good looking. Rachel fleetingly wondered why she'd never seen her in temple.

Rachel did not know how to talk to her "babysitter," so she spent much of the weekend in her room. When she ventured outside the confines of her safety net, the beauty of the girl who tried in vain to nudge Rachel into conversation would just unravel Rachel all over again. Rachel found she could not articulate thoughts, felt clumsy and uncouth, and embarrassed in her own skin. It was best if Rachel stayed in her room. Her Dad and Daddy kept her in that room even longer when they returned home to the girl's report that Rachel barely spoke the whole weekend and largely kept to herself. They both knew that was highly unlike their talkative, attention-seeking daughter. Surely she must be sick. Rachel let them believe just that and it allowed her a day off from school…but even more time to think of curly auburn hair, bright blue eyes, and a sparkling smile.

Now, lying in the same bed, Rachel replaced auburn hair with blonde and blue eyes for hazel. She turned to face her window and resolved that Rachel Barbara Berry was going to approach Quinn Fabray the next day and act like a normal human being. She would engage her in conversation. In preparation, Rachel flung herself out of bed, opened her laptop, and spent the rest of the night researching current events topics. Should her mind and body betray her tomorrow, maybe she could power through it by, for instance, asking if Quinn knew much about the local string of convenience store robberies.

As the weeks passed, Rachel was confident her plan was working. She rarely talked about herself to Quinn and, really, Quinn was not much of a talker at all. Rachel overcompensated for Quinn's silence by talking even more: About income tax regulations, the new sewage system plant being built at the edge of Lima, the complaints of residents over a Starbucks possibly replacing the local coffee shop - anything! Rachel was becoming a pro when it came to local news, which she reasoned also served the purpose of preparing her for any future political career.

Quinn offered very little information to Rachel; usually she just nodded, smiled politely, or let her eyes stray to whatever briefly caught her attention. Rachel preferred it that way because when Quinn looked at her, Rachel almost always faltered. Quinn would stare at her with an expression that baffled Rachel, who prided herself on being able to read facial cues quite well. It helped prepare her for any future Broadway roles. Yet Quinn's look was mysterious and rarely offered to her. For Rachel, it was also perplexing and endlessly frustrating.

One day Rachel was extolling the virtues of Streisand when Quinn graced her with that look. Rachel felt words get stuck in her throat and she was just barely able to grasp at tidbits of information to force them out of her mouth. Suddenly, Quinn turned to Rachel and stood so close that Rachel unconsciously stepped back.

Quinn spoke up, "Look, Rachel, I get that you feel like you have to take me under your wing, or whatever. But I think I got this whole school thing down. You should probably be on your way. You know, back to your life and friends?"

Rachel thought Quinn must be joking. Or did she actually believe she was merely some type of charity case for Rachel? "Quinn…I think you misunderstand. Yes, I was chosen to show you around the school but now I feel as if we could be good friends. You seem quite…"

Quinn cut her off. "Rachel, I'm a cheerleader now. You, you are…well…not. We have nothing in common. Leave me be!"

And with that, Quinn silenced Rachel. Rachel stood stock still and watched Quinn rush toward the corridor. Rachel fleetingly wondered how she did not know that Quinn was on the cheerleading squad. She shrugged it off, and for the first time of many, Rachel followed after Quinn.

"So much for being a leader," Rachel mumbled under her breath as she actually started to run, desperation suddenly fueling her adrenaline, after Quinn. She ran until someone ran into her. Rachel bounced backwards and down as seemingly all the breath left her body in a rush of air and exasperation.

"Oh, gosh, Rachel, I'm so sorry!" Finn Hudson exclaimed, towering above her.

"Nevermind," Rachel managed to breathe out. She quickly regained her footing – thank you very much to her elliptical machine for her ability to recover so speedily – and moved forward again. Finn stopped her by tugging lightly at her arm.

"Finn, I assure you that I am okay. In the future, please watch where you are going. I have to find Quinn, so I am sorry that I do not have time for a conversation."

"Actually," Finn began, rather bashfully. "I wanted to talk to you about Quinn."

Rachel held her breath, counted to ten, and waited for the inevitable. "What about Quinn?" she asked him.

"Well…do you know if she is seeing anyone? You know, any boys? I've asked some of the guys on the football team. They don't know and you hang around her, so…" He trailed off.

Rachel listened to Finn with a blank look on her face. Of course Finn would like Quinn! Rachel could have predicted this turn of events, but she hadn't planned on the sudden jealously that sprung up within her like a brush fire. She glared up at Finn and calmly said, "I honestly have no idea, Finn. A girl as pretty as Quinn most likely has many, many suitors. I wish you the best of luck in your pursuit." Without so much as a backwards glance, Rachel left Finn standing, forlorn, in the hallway.

She never found Quinn that day at school. She went home and re-played her conversations with Quinn (too brief) and Finn (too long) over and over on a loop. She fell asleep that night with words echoing in her mind, words that she wanted Quinn to say to her instead of the ones asking Rachel to leave her alone: "I like you, Rachel. Can't you tell by the way I look at you?" Rachel preferred this version of the conversation. She liked the idea that Quinn liked her.

Rachel's mission the next day at school was simple: Corner Quinn. Make Quinn talk to her. When she spotted Quinn, though, her plan seemed null and void. Finn had Quinn in a corner. Finn was making Quinn talk to him. Rachel thought about interrupting them. Then she heard the melody of Quinn's laugh, saw her hand glide down Finn's shoulder, watched as Finn stepped even closer to Quinn. Rachel turned in the opposite direction without looking back. Had she been only two minutes late in arriving to school, the scene she witnessed between Quinn and Finn would have encouraged her to approach Quinn instead of turning from her. Quinn left Finn standing, perplexed, as she thought up a vague excuse to remove herself from the situation after enduring – in her most polite fashion – probably the dumbest joke she'd ever heard. Rachel would have seen the frown on Finn's face as Quinn moved away from him. She would have seen Quinn grimace and roll her eyes after she turned her back on him. She would have been looking right at Quinn because Quinn was watching as Rachel walked away.

It became easier for Rachel to accept that she had no place in Quinn's life. She occupied herself by staring at Finn every time she thought no one would notice. Could Quinn actually like this guy? He was bumbling and a little on the stupid side. He was kind, though. Rachel eventually made a pros and cons list of Finn's attributes to see if she could gauge Quinn's possible attraction to the boy. She marked out all the cons on her list the day she learned that the two were dating.

She added two pros to the list when she found out about Quinn's pregnancy: "Able to manipulate a girl into having unprotected sex with him and, thus, impregnating her. Able then to hold onto said girl and seem like a hero for sticking by her during stressful and difficult times."

It was really an accident, the way in which Rachel learned that Noah Puckerman was the real father of Quinn's baby. Rachel was acutely aware of anyone who paid Quinn a great deal of attention. She was not blind to the fact that, lately, Puck hovered near Quinn any time the two were in the same vicinity. One day in Glee Rachel noticed that Puck ran his hand along Quinn's stomach during a dance routine, which was not part of the choreography at all. Quinn brushed Puck's hand away with a scowl and her body seemed to draw in on itself. The truth clicked in Rachel's mind with such force that she backed into Santana in the middle of the routine. She barely felt Santana nudge her sharply in the elbow and huff back into position with a grunt of disgust aimed at Rachel.

She tried to give Quinn a way out, a way to tell her about the baby's paternity. She thought about the issue for days until she stumbled upon a way to connect Puck to the baby. She hated to bring her religion into the mix and inwardly loathed herself more than a little for stooping so low. Yet she was desperate for Quinn to explain the situation. She wanted Quinn to justify her actions. What Rachel really wanted more than anything was a way to forgive Quinn. It was hard to love someone who was lying to others for reasons that Rachel failed to grasp. Had Quinn told the truth and allowed Rachel even the barest of insights into her reasoning, Rachel was fairly certain she would have kept the secret with Quinn. She wanted something that they could share, even if it was a lie.

Rachel told Finn the truth for the most selfish and juvenile of reasons. Everyone believed – and she let them believe, so wasn't she as much a liar as Quinn? – that she told Finn because she cared deeply for his feelings. Really, though, Finn found out because Rachel was angry at Quinn. She was in love with a girl who barely spoke to her and lied to her about half the time they carried on a conversation. It was pretty sick and twisted, Rachel bitterly admitted. And it made her angry. So, why not hurt Quinn? At least maybe then Quinn would feel something for her, even if it was the same anger that Rachel harbored toward Quinn.

Instead of comforting Finn following his attack on Puck, Rachel trailed out after Quinn. All the anger left Rachel as soon as she saw Quinn's face when Finn first hit Puck. Rachel barely remembers the fight since all her attention was on Quinn. Looking at Quinn made her body feel the same as it did that day Finn accidentally knocked her down in the hallway: Empty of air and overcome with the urge to run. Quinn's shell-shocked look as she sat in the corridor of McKinley initially produced a similar reaction in Rachel. She felt badly startled and on the verge of tears. She was shaking and fitting one of the oldest clichés in the world, literally wringing her hands. She wanted to hug Quinn. Maybe that would stop her shaking. Instead, she just mumbled over and over that she was sorry. And she realized for the first time how very, very deeply she loved Quinn. She was no longer angry at Quinn for lying. She was no longer angry at all. She just wanted to love Quinn, but she knew that was not an option. She was not a suitor for Quinn's heart. Rachel realized that this was why she had been angry in the first place: She knew Quinn didn't want her. It was a terrible, lonely feeling. Yet she did not feel so alone right now with Quinn by her side. She came away from their talk with the nagging, guilty feeling that Quinn somehow comforted her far more than Rachel ever could Quinn.

She dated Finn for the last part of sophomore year out of pity. She kept up the part of doting girlfriend for as long as she was able. It prepared her for possible future movie roles. Although she put on a show, she cared very little when Finn was the one to break up with her. She cared a lot that he left her for Quinn.

She dated Jesse for the last part of junior year because the boy was like her mirror. He might be her competition but Rachel had a real flair for the dramatic. He stroked her ego and she thought that was probably the closest thing she'd find to love in small-town Ohio.

When Finn suddenly started showing interest in her again, her first inclination was to use the information against him to win points with Quinn. She couldn't stay true to her intentions, ironically enough, because of Quinn. During their songwriting session for Regionals, Quinn practically begged Rachel to let her keep Finn. Rachel tried to absorb Quinn's words about how she was better than this town, how she was meant for greater things – meant for those places spoken by two fathers to a five year old child. Yet Rachel could only really focus on the fact that Quinn wanted rid of her. All the rest, she believed, was just patronizing drivel meant to appease Rachel. And Rachel felt lonely for Quinn all over again as if for the first time. She just wanted to love Quinn, but she knew that was not an option. She was not a suitor for Quinn's heart. She and Quinn were not going to get it right.

Rachel was never more aware of that fact than when Quinn slapped her at junior prom. Once again Rachel found herself following after Quinn when she should have been nowhere near the girl. How predictable, that slap. It seemed the only thing they could share was anger and frustration. And Finn. After the slap Rachel saw before her a familiar picture: A broken Quinn Fabray, the girl who Rachel loved beyond reason or sensibility. Of course she could not conjure enough energy to get mad about the slap. That look on Quinn's face wasn't really giving her a choice in the matter. She drew nearer to Quinn, absentmindedly grabbed a paper towel, and allowed her fingertips to quickly dance across Quinn's face as she dried her tears.

Rachel kept going back to that moment at prom a lot during the following weeks. She liked to drift to sleep by remembering the softness of Quinn's cheeks and the brief but lovely moment when Quinn exhaled so forcefully that Rachel could feel – almost taste – Quinn's breath on her skin. She thought about that moment a lot in the days after she broke up with Jesse under the guise of him being too brutal with his opinions of her friends in Glee. She thought about it as she wrote songs for Nationals while the other girls bounced around on the hotel bed. Quinn even took the liberty of smacking Rachel in the back of the head with a pillow and laughing at Rachel's stunned expression. Rachel eventually laughed, too, but for far different reasons. If Quinn Fabray could even imagine the thoughts swarming through Rachel's head the moment before Quinn's pillow connected with the back of her head!

Her onstage kiss with Finn left Rachel with conflicting emotions. The only thing she could be sure of was that she wanted to kick Finn in the balls. Hard. Twice. She was torn as to how to approach the subject with the rest of her friends. She could try to play it off or defend the kiss. Santana quickly solved Rachel's dilemma by threatening to kick her ass. The rest of the group dispersed after Santana calmed down enough to stalk out of the room. It was not the failed kiss with Finn or Santana's threats or even the fact that all her friends wanted to avoid her that finally cracked Rachel. Quinn – always, always Quinn - won the prize in that arena. Quinn finding her disgusting was just short of all that Rachel could bear at that moment and more than enough to topple her to the ground. It was for the best, she reasoned, that her eyes were so full of tears that she did not even see Quinn walk out the door.

She spent her summer wrestling with her feelings and asking questions she'd never had the courage to tackle. Was she really in love with Quinn? Or did she just want something out of her reach? Could she actually love a person she seemingly barely knew? Was she in love with a girl who lied to her…ignored her only to pay attention to her with a slap to the face…someone who left her weeping on the floor of a hotel room? Could she even call that love?

Her answer came to her by summer's end with no loud fanfare or sudden moment of clarity. She just somehow knew the truth, and it was a truth that left her both disappointed and relieved. She cried about it – let the tears serve as an ending. It was strange to her to cry over something that never even began, but that didn't change how she felt about the ending.

When Rachel saw Quinn on the first day of their senior year, she knew she'd come up with all the right answers over the summer. Walking toward her and just as quickly away from her was a pink-haired Quinn. She called out to Quinn and was met with silence. Typical, really. When Quinn passed by her without so much as a blink of acknowledgment, Rachel stood rooted to the spot. For exactly how long is still up for debate.

"So much for being a leader," Rachel thought as she once again went after Quinn Fabray.


	3. 3 Interludes with Kurt and Santana

**AN: Thanks to everyone who takes the time to review the story. As mentioned on my profile page, the first two chapters are meant to frame the story. Please note that this chapter takes place a month after the first day of senior year. The next chapter will have genuine Faberry interaction and you will learn more about the first month of school in that chapter as well. For now, enjoy the space between.**

**I am honestly wrestling with three questions right now in relation to Rachel. Did she decide at the end of summer that she actually loves Quinn? Did she decide over the summer that she does not love Quinn? Is it possible that she loves Quinn but is in denial about it to the point that she accepts it as fact that she does not love Quinn? I am open to suggestions as to how you – as readers – would like it to play out. **

Kurt Hummel was having a fabulous senior year, and it was only the end of the first month! He had a doting boyfriend and was running virtually unopposed for senior class president – having come to the startling conclusion that his campaign manager, one Brittany S. Pierce, was secretly a genius. Glee club was going well. His classes were not too tough. His life was good and peaceful right now. And also really, really, really boring. Kurt didn't like to admit it: But he missed drama and gossip and scandal. Things were too quiet at McKinley. He and Mercedes Jones had very little to say to each other these days because, well, gossip was always their main dish. All they were getting these days was starvation.

Driving home from Blaine's house that evening, Kurt took his usual route home. If everything must be so tedious in school, Kurt wondered, maybe he should come up with something to enliven the environment at McKinley. He pondered the idea of a school musical – try outs would bring out the best (and also the worst!) among the Glee clubbers. Healthy competition amongst friends was, he figured, only natural. These thoughts were on his mind as he passed by Rachel Berry's house. Kurt always made a point to glance over at Rachel's house each time he drove home via this route. He admired Rachel, considered her a close friend, and it made him smile to catch the light on in her window. What Kurt did not expect to see was a whirl of blonde air come streaking out of Rachel's house.

His initial thought was that Brittany was the girl he saw. Was Brittany secretly feeding Rachel information about Kurt's campaign so that Rachel could join the race for class president? He was about to swerve into Rachel's drive way in search of answers until he saw who was really running – literally running – away from Rachel's house. Quinn Fabray was at Rachel's house? Quinn Fabray was now running away from Rachel's house? Kurt slammed on his breaks as Quinn came closer to the car, obviously oblivious to Kurt even though his car lights were now shining directly on her face. And what he saw shocked him. Quinn was crying so hard it was actually making her look ugly. Kurt jumped out of his car and jogged over to Quinn.

"Quinn, honey," he started out. His mind was swirling at the moment. He fleetingly berated himself for wanting any drama in his life. He tried again, "Quinn, what…what is wrong?"

His words startled Quinn and she jumped back from him in a panic. She just as swiftly ran forward and started beating her fists against Kurt's chest. "Fuck you! Fuck off! Fuck you! Fuck off!" Quinn screamed at Kurt.

Kurt tried to calm the girl, but she'd rendered him totally speechless and his body absorbed her blows soundlessly. Quinn finally shoved Kurt backwards with one final shout of "Fuck off!" before she took off down the street. Kurt dimly wondered where Quinn had parked her car. After two minutes spent collecting his breath and making sure his designer shirt was still completely intact, he rushed over to Rachel's house and pounded furiously on the door. No one answered him. He surveyed his surroundings. Rachel's car was the only one parked in the driveway. Kurt ran around to the side of the house and looked up at Rachel's window. The light was still on in her room. Kurt yelled out to her several times. No one answered him. He took out his cell phone and dialed Rachel's number. No one answered him.

He trudged back to his car, glancing back every second or so. On the way home, Kurt called Blaine and explained to him what transpired that evening. After Kurt ended the call, he laughed hysterically. He felt like he was in shock. There was now drama in Kurt's life. And he suddenly wanted no part of it.

Santana Lopez was having a pretty decent senior year. The only thing nagging her was how long she could keep her relationship with Brittany a secret. It was only a month into her senior year, but Brittany was pressuring her to come out. Other than that, life was pretty sweet. She had the girl, and oh was her girl ever so hot. She was co-captain of the Cheerios. Her classes were a joke. She secretly wished that life could always be this amazing and simple. Leave it up to Rachel Berry to change all that.

Santana enjoyed walking in the park late in the evenings. This is where she came to think about how she might make her feelings for Brittany publicly known. The weather in Lima was so nice in the early fall and it helped to clear Santana's mind of worry and fear. It was on this particular evening that she came across Rachel sitting listlessly, head hung down, on a swing. Santana might not have even recognized her if not for the unmistakable sound of Rachel crying. My God, Santana hated that sound! It was Santana's first inclination to slowly – ever so slowly – turn around and walk away. The only thing that stopped her was Rachel suddenly glancing up and spotting her. Santana turned to bolt – there was still time to get out of this without having to talk to Rachel! Rachel beat her to it: It was she who jumped up from the swing and ran in the opposite direction of Santana.

"The hell?" Santana muttered under her breath. No one ran from Santana unless they had done something to anger her! Rachel had been low on Santana's radar since after Nationals. Plus, Brittany kept Santana plenty busy. So…what had Rachel done to piss Santana off now? Santana could rationally see no other explanation as to why Rachel ran from her. Could Rachel have hurt Brittany's feelings somehow?

Santana charged after Rachel and finally caught up with her at the edge of the park. Rachel may have her elliptical machine to keep her in shape but there was nothing like laps around a track to make someone fast and fit, Santana smugly thought to herself as she grabbed Rachel around the shoulders and tugged her to the ground. "Why so in a hurry, Berry?" Santana questioned, that smug look still on her face but quickly morphing into one of barely suppressed shock as she fully took in the girl pinned beneath her.

Rachel looked so damned tired: Her face swollen, eyes rimmed red, tears still nearly drowning her face. Santana shifted her weight up and off Rachel. She yanked Rachel to her feet and the girl simply fell into her arms like a rag doll.

"Rachel, did someone hurt you?" Santana asked as quietly and calmly as possible. Santana was clearly used to Rachel's dramatics, but this was too, too much. Rachel's behavior was scaring Santana. Rachel just stared up at Santana and barely breathed out Quinn's name before suddenly wrenching loose of Santana and running out of the park and into the rapidly approaching dark.

Santana watched Rachel flee, but did not pursue her. Maybe she thought it best not to get involved in whatever was going on with Rachel. Maybe the fact that it seemed like Quinn – Rachel had said Quinn's name, right? – was the source of the problem that made Santana shy away. Quinn was all kinds of messed up these days. Sure, she'd dyed her hair blonde again. But maybe Quinn's crazy was the type you can't wash out.

On the way home, Santana called Brittany and explained to her what transpired that evening. Brittany persuaded Santana to drive by Quinn's house and, ever trying to please her girlfriend and thus stay in the closet just a little bit longer, Santana agreed. Quinn's car was the only one in the driveway. Santana knocked on the door. No one answered her. She waited a moment before knocking again, this time she even went the extra mile – Brittany would've insisted upon it – and yelled out to Quinn. No one answered her. Santana dug through the pockets of her cargo pants in search of her cell phone. She dialed Quinn's number. No one answered her. The call went straight to voicemail.

All Santana wanted was a peaceful senior year. She resolved to tell Brittany a little white lie: Quinn was fine. Rachel was just being, well, Rachel. No way was Santana going to let whatever drama between Rachel and Quinn – probably over Finn again! – take up any more of her time.  
>_<p>

The next day at school found Kurt desperately searching for either Rachel or Quinn. Brittany, who Santana always knew was a secret genius, saw right through Santana's lie. So she, too, was on the hunt for the girls. The hallways of McKinley were quite small and Kurt and Santana were in the same general vicinity when Rachel walked briskly through the front door, followed closely and almost frantically by Quinn. Rachel heard two voices call out to her at once.

"Rachel, wait up!" This from Santana.

"Rachel, we should talk." This from Kurt.

She whipped her head from right to left as she looked first at Santana and then at Kurt.

In the midst of the commotion, Quinn managed to turn from the scene playing out before her. She walked to the door she'd only a moment ago entered and quickly made her exit.


	4. 4 Meet Me, Feel Me

**AN: This chapter highlights the first three weeks of senior year. So, I don't get around to answering just what happened to them the night that Kurt found Quinn and Santana found Rachel. I'm saving that for the next chapter. I have an idea of how that chapter is going to end up…and you might not like me for a while if I go with how I'm writing it at this point. Yet – as always – I'm open to suggestions. **

Rachel seriously wondered if the fates were against her or maybe the universe just didn't like to play fair. She ran after Quinn on that first day of senior year only to run into Finn. Literally. Again. She managed to keep her feet this time and side-stepped his apologies. Not three steps later Tina Cohen-Chang ran up to Rachel, grabbed her by the hand, and shouted right in Rachel's face. "Have you seen Quinn?" Tina looked at Rachel as if in awe. Rachel nodded dumbly at her, removed her hand from Tina's increasingly painful grip, and brushed past the girl.

Not four steps later Rachel saw Kurt make a beeline in her direction. She tried to look extremely preoccupied so as to discourage him from approaching her. Too late. Kurt regaled her with the story of the day: Quinn and her pink hair. It was easy to ditch Kurt because, in his excitement, he pretty much stopped only long enough to tell her about Quinn's hair before he was off to find someone else to enlighten. Rachel was practically running down the hall at this point, eager to find Quinn and avoid, well, everyone else. Glancing out the window, Rachel caught sight of Quinn heading toward the back of the school.

Rachel took the nearest exit and broke out into a full-on sprint. She called out to Quinn, but Quinn just kept moving. There was something about the sway of Quinn's hips that suddenly infuriated Rachel. Here she was sweating into her penny loafers by running after Quinn and Quinn was coolly and calmly sashaying to the football field. Rachel sped up and ran past Quinn. She spun around and glared at the pink-haired girl. Quinn finally stopped walking and favored Rachel with that look: The one Rachel swore she hadn't seen on Quinn's face since sophomore year. Rachel drew back and took a steadying breath.

"What now, Rachel?" Quinn questioned, narrowing her eyes and arching her eyebrow. "Why must you always interfere with my life? It's so exhausting."

Rachel looked down at her feet. She could feel her anger burning through her when she noticed the scuffs and grass stains on her new shoes. Who was Quinn Fabray to keep causing her so much trouble?

Rachel slowly let her eyes drift to Quinn's face. She smirked, summoned all her willpower, and dared to defy Quinn Fabray. Keeping her voice low but strong, Rachel advanced on Quinn: "Oh, Quinn, I just wanted to see how you messed up your life this time. You never fail to disappoint." Rachel risked another step closer to Quinn. "Did you honestly think that a nose ring," Rachel paused to laugh, "that a nose ring and pink hair would make you, what? A badass? A heartless bitch? What, Quinn?" She was getting caught up in the moment, glancing just beyond Quinn's face and into the glare of the morning sun so as to avoid the other girl's reaction. Later, Rachel would understand this was how she missed the inevitable as it rushed toward her. Suddenly, Quinn gripped Rachel tightly around both arms and began to walk her forward.

"Quinn, stop this!" Rachel swung her eyes downward only to witness Quinn's fingers press even deeper into her flesh. She chanced a glimpse at Quinn but could not read the expression she found staring back at her. It almost looked as if Quinn's face was in some type of tug-of-war: She was smiling at Rachel and grimacing at her as well. Quinn continued to move them forward and Rachel decided to let it happen. She was curious to see how this was going to play out and too overwhelmed by Quinn's nearness to protest. Rachel's words hung heavily between the two girls. Surely Quinn meant to punish her somehow.

Quinn finally slowed down and Rachel bounced against the back of the bleachers. It startled Rachel to realize just how far Quinn had pushed her from the spot where they started the conversation. Quinn tilted her chin and regarded Rachel with that same unreadable, warring look. Rachel was helpless not to briefly marvel over the feel of Quinn clutching her arms. Unexpectedly, Quinn began to forcefully run her hands up and down the length of Rachel's arms in long, sweeping motions. Gooseflesh blossomed on Rachel's skin.

"Are you scared of me, Rachel?" Quinn asked in the lowest voice Rachel had ever heard.

"Never!" Rachel countered.

Quinn removed her hands from Rachel and immediately pulled Rachel closer to her by grabbing the brunette by the hips and roughly fusing their bodies together. Warning sirens flashed inside Rachel's mind.

"How about now?" Quinn breathed out. Rachel kept silent.

Quinn laughed. "Ah, did the heartless bitch steal the little diva's words?" Quinn rocked her body forward and further into Rachel. "Why so quiet, Rachel?" She couldn't tell if Quinn was mocking her…or if Quinn was actually the one afraid of Rachel. No time like the present to find out, she supposed.

Rachel's hands hung limply at her sides until she reached forward and wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist, effectively bringing the girls within breathing distance of each other. Quinn shivered against Rachel. She was going to see this thing to its bitter end: "Why so quiet, Quinn?"

Quinn sighed and Rachel could feel it through her entire body. Quinn whispered, "I'm quiet because you'll either do it or you won't." Quinn slumped backwards as Rachel surged forward. She ghosted her lips against Quinn's in something that was more of a whisper than a kiss. Quinn pushed Rachel back against the wall and hovered her lips near Rachel's mouth. "You'll either do it or you won't," Rachel managed to say.

Quinn's lips met hers and the kiss quickly transformed into wandering hands and tongues against collarbones. Rachel moaned into Quinn, letting out years of frustration, lust, and want in a single breath. Quinn guided Rachel to the ground and Rachel didn't even care that they were now lying in the dirt, at the back of the football field, while Rachel missed home room on the first day of the last year of high school.

Rachel ran her hands through Quinn's hair and Quinn ran her hands up Rachel's thigh. She was not so heady with desire that she couldn't guess where this might be heading. Rachel didn't think it out of the realm of possibility that Quinn aimed to have sex with her. Quinn rolled on top of Rachel and groaned so fiercely that Rachel had to force herself not to buck her hips forward. Was Quinn playing her, Rachel wondered? Quinn trailed her tongue along the length of Rachel's jawbone and Rachel shuddered against her will. She gripped Quinn tighter and she could picture as much as feel the smirk on Quinn's face. Was she just trying to get Rachel in a vulnerable position, only to scramble to her feet and laugh at Rachel's foolishness? Quinn snaked her hand under Rachel's shirt and swept her fingers along her abdomen. Rachel's body reacted before her mind could cry foul. She crashed her hips into Quinn, who let out a strangled groan.

"Take off your shirt," Quinn commanded.

This was going way too fast for Rachel. She couldn't shake the feeling that Quinn intended on getting her naked, snapping a picture of her with her phone, and texting it to everyone in Lima. Seconds before Quinn reached up to remove her own shirt, Rachel pushed Quinn off her. She gracelessly found her footing and confronted Quinn.

"I don't know what you want from me," Rachel blurted out.

"Seems fairly obvious to me," Quinn shot back as she stood up to dust off her black jeans.

"You won't even look at me."

"I'm a little busy cleaning up, you'll pardon me. Someone just shoved me to the ground."

"We were already on the ground."

Quinn finally looked at her. "Semantics," Quinn shrugged. She added, "Would you like me to push you back to the ground?"

Rachel couldn't decide if Quinn was flirting with her or threatening her. "I'm not having sex with you," she bluntly informed Quinn.

"Noted."

"That's all you are going to say? Just…noted?"

"Duly noted," Quinn offered.

The nerve of this girl! Quinn looked as collected and in control as ever. Rachel's skin was still hot from Quinn's touch and she felt the sweat slowly drying on her face. She sensed that familiar rush of embarrassment flood over her: Quinn was too pretty and it made Rachel almost sick with anxiety. What was happening between them? Why was Quinn being so nonchalant? The only explanation that made sense to Rachel was that Quinn was somehow toying with her. As if to prove Rachel right, Quinn turned from Rachel and walked away.

"I'm going to class now," Quinn threw back over her shoulder.

Rachel didn't chase after Quinn this time. She had a funny feeling Quinn would come back on her own.

And Rachel was right. The very next morning Quinn passed Rachel in the halls of McKinley. Just as Quinn was out of Rachel's direct line of vision, Quinn reached out and shoved something into her hand. It was a note with two words written on it: "Meet me."

Rachel should have found it presumptuous of Quinn. She'd not listed a time or place to "meet me." Still, Rachel skipped home room and headed back under the bleachers to find Quinn waiting for her.

"Brought a blanket this time," Quinn gestured.

"So you did. I'm still not having sex with you."

Quinn laughed. It sounded genuine enough to Rachel, but she was wary. She decided if this was some elaborate ruse on Quinn's part, Rachel vowed to play Quinn just as hard. But for the moment she kept her distance from Quinn and made no move to join her.

"Okay, Rachel, since you clearly can't think of anything other than sex, I'm just going to leave you alone with your sordid thoughts." Rachel watched as Quinn unceremoniously whisked up the blanket and stalked away.

Rachel did not miss home room for the rest of the week. The next Monday morning found her under the bleachers after she found a note from Quinn stuffed in her locker: "Meet me. I'm not having sex with you, so keep your thoughts clean." Rachel smiled and tried to ignore the screaming in her mind: The shouts that this was a form of Quinn's revenge, she was falling into a trap, Quinn only wanted to see how far she could make Rachel go.

She found Quinn under the bleachers, lounging on a blanket, reading a book. She hovered over Quinn and watched as the pink-haired girl lazily tossed the book aside and motioned for Rachel to sit.

"You know," Quinn said, "I have not gone to home room at all."

"I highly doubt your rebelliousness is causing much of a stir. I happen to know you attend your other classes."

"Why are you so interested in my whereabouts?"

"How do you know that I am?"

"How do you know that I go to class?"

"I see you in the hallways; I assume you are going to and from class." Rachel sensed the conversation slipping out of her grasp. She threw out a question to wrench control from Quinn by placing the focus away from Rachel: "Why did you dye your hair pink?"

"Store was out of blue hair dye."

"I'm being serious, Quinn!"

Quinn sighed and propped herself up on her elbows. "Pink, blue, purple…what does it matter?" She leaned closer to Rachel and captured her lips in a bruising kiss. Rachel sagged against Quinn and returned the kiss. She figured if she couldn't control the conversation, Rachel sure as hell would control the kissing. She pinned Quinn to the ground and swirled her tongue into the girl's mouth. Rachel let her tongue brush against Quinn's teeth, eventually allowing Quinn to mirror her. Quinn darted her tongue to the roof of Rachel's mouth and Rachel felt all the blood in her body drain to her core. She straddled Quinn and was immediately met with the push of Quinn's hips. Rachel bit down on Quinn's lower lip until she tasted blood. Quinn rocked her hips clumsily beneath her. Rachel was proud of herself for causing Quinn to lose all sense of rhythm. She thought that, while she had the upper hand, she should stop things here. She rolled off Quinn and took to her feet. Rachel was silent as Quinn loudly and rather aggressively gathered her things and stalked away from her.

Quinn actually attended home room for the rest of the second week of classes. She skipped school altogether on the first day of the third week. There was no note from Quinn on Tuesday, which bothered Rachel. She could no longer ignore the danger signs that flashed through her mind. It really seemed as if Quinn was playing a game of cat and mouse with her. Otherwise, why drag it out like this? Lost in her thoughts, it took Rachel longer than usual to figure out that someone was staring at her. Fearing a slushie was in her future, she covertly glanced up and down the hall until her eyes landed on Quinn. The pink-haired girl simply nodded toward the exit.

Moments later, Rachel found Quinn lying on a blanket (typical), reading a book (par for the course), and smoking a cigarette (not part of our regularly scheduled program).

"I'm not making out with you if you are smoking!"

"I'll put it out."

"You are still going to smell like smoke!"

"I'll chew a piece of gum."

"Not good enough. "

Quinn jumped up and swung her arms around Rachel as if they were about to waltz. Instead, Quinn pulled Rachel onto the blanket, pushed her body on top of Rachel's, and kissed her. It was clear to Rachel that Quinn was winning this round. There was an extra sharpness to Quinn's movements that day. Rachel felt like Quinn was trying to crawl inside her skin. Quinn kept grabbing fistfuls of her shirt only to release her hold and grab on again. She was certain that, for the first time in her life, she was going to have bruises on her neck. Rachel wondered if it was rage or desire fueling Quinn.

She came away from that encounter knowing she had to get both a firmer grip on her emotions and on Quinn's ability to run the show. She left a note in Quinn's locker early on Thursday morning: "Meet me."

Later that afternoon, Quinn cornered Rachel in the library.

"Are you kidding me, Rachel? You left a note for me under the bleachers? This isn't a treasure hunt." Quinn slammed the note down on the table. The librarian hushed her. Quinn whirled around to glare at the woman. Rachel took that moment to mentally pat herself on the back for not only rattling Quinn but for getting the girl to seek her out. The note placed before her had only one word on it: "Later."

"What do you mean by later?"

"I meant as in meet me later, Quinn. I don't want to meet you under the bleachers anymore. There are plenty of nice places – our homes, for example – where we might be more comfortable."

Quinn folded her arms across her chest and leaned down. "And by later at your house…what time do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking around six. My Dad and Daddy are going to a gay pride film festival in Akron."

"All right, see you at six." Quinn paused before adding, "Should I still bring the blanket?" She grinned at Rachel before she made her exit. It was only later that Rachel berated herself for allowing Quinn to pick the place they'd meet. She didn't even offer her home as an option, which was pretty much just another way for Quinn to dictate the terms of whatever it was going on between them.

Quinn stood outside Rachel's house fifteen minutes after six. She mentally congratulated herself for showing up late. It seemed like Rachel had all the control in their set-up. Rachel was the one who kept breaking up their make-out sessions or, frustratingly, trying to delay them. Quinn speculated that Rachel was purposefully trying to push her around. She suspected Rachel had some ulterior motive – maybe more than one – as to why she was even making out with Quinn at all. And if Rachel thought she was the one in charge here, well, Quinn Fabray had plenty of ways to switch their positions.

Quinn always thought Rachel had a sadistic side to her that the brunette masked under her bubbly, friendly demeanor. After all, this was the girl who got a teacher fired to suit her own purposes, sent a rival student to a crack house, and told Finn the truth about Beth just so she could have him. Quinn could see no reason why Rachel wouldn't be up to something now.

Pushing Rachel out of the parking lot and up against the bleachers on the first day of school was just a reflection of Quinn's anger. Rachel was one to call her heartless! She'd intended on getting right in Rachel's face and screaming at her, hence backing Rachel into a corner and leaving her no means of escape. Quinn readily admitted that the scared but firm look on Rachel's face was what prompted her to whisper instead of scream. Was Rachel afraid of her? Was she trying to mask it?

She took Rachel's answer of "Never!" as a challenge. Quinn pushed into Rachel even harder. Okay, let them have their shouting match for once in their fucking lives.

Quinn took the offensive: "Ah, did the heartless bitch steal the little diva's words?" Quinn was ready to continue her attack, but she made the mistake of glancing right at Rachel. Quinn hesitated. Rachel's eyes had grown dark, pupils darting up and down Quinn's face. She could hear Rachel's breath; ragged and uneven. Looking at Rachel in that moment made Quinn feel uneasy: Who was Rachel Berry to keep making her react this way?

She'd hesitated too long, giving Rachel the opportunity to use Quinn's own words against her: "Why so quiet, Quinn?"

And Quinn reasoned that she could play this game just as well – better, even – than Rachel.

"I'm quiet because you either will or you won't." Might as well play her hand just to see how Rachel would react. Maybe she'd stun the girl into silence or even offend her with the implications behind her words. She wasn't expecting Rachel to actually follow through and kiss her. As for Quinn, she felt that Rachel had been the puppet master ever since she kissed Quinn for the first time.

This evening, Quinn planned to cut the strings and take over. She knocked on Rachel's front door.

"Nice of you to grace me with your presence, Quinn," Rachel said. Quinn could tell there was no real malice behind her words. Could it be Rachel thought Quinn wouldn't show? Quinn hoped that was the case because it meant she was having an impact on the girl.

"Sorry. I'm not that late, though, so consider me fashionably on time."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Late is late, Quinn."

Enough of Rachel's ramblings. She took a step nearer the brunette and said, "Care to help me out with a problem I'm having?" Quinn wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Was Rachel blushing? Perfect! Everything was going in her favor. Just before Rachel could respond, Quinn reached into her bag and pulled out a box of blonde hair dye. She tossed the box at Rachel, who missed it altogether.

"Oh." That was Rachel's only response, and Quinn thought it a very good one.

Forty minutes later Quinn found herself kneeling on the floor of Rachel's bathroom. She was just finishing washing the dye from her hair when she felt Rachel's body brush against her back. Quinn was on the verge of turning to Rachel when the brunette swiftly pulled up Quinn's shirt and flitted her tongue up the length of Quinn's back. All coherent thoughts left Quinn. She gripped the edge of the tub and tried not to moan. She failed. Rachel turned Quinn to face her and water from Quinn's hair splashed across Rachel's face. The wetness of Quinn's hair drenched through her shirt just as the wetness of her core was beginning to drench through her panties.

Quinn leaned forward and tentatively but leisurely licked a droplet of water from Rachel's face. It appeared that Rachel was in no mood for taking it slow. She roughly smashed their lips together and Quinn struggled to breathe. How had she managed to let Rachel take over yet again? Rachel pushed into Quinn and the two girls rocked together for several minutes, neither one quite able to overpower the other.

"Take off your shirt," Rachel commanded. Quinn complied.

Still, Quinn tried desperately to wrestle any type of control from Rachel, but the only thing she could manage was to grab Rachel's hands and push them into her breasts. At least it was Quinn who initiated the contact. Rachel groaned and it was the single most erotic and intoxicating sound Quinn had ever heard. Rachel bent her head lower and placed her mouth over Quinn's breast. Quinn arched her back and Rachel enveloped her mouth around Quinn's nipple. She bit down, hard, and Quinn howled, whether in protest or appreciation, Quinn herself wasn't even certain.

Suddenly, Rachel stood up. Quinn whimpered. So, this was it, she thought. Rachel had Quinn right where she wanted her: Dripping wet, half naked, on the floor, vulnerable. Quinn was about to speak, to lash out, to flail away when Rachel gently pulled her to her feet and gripped her arms.

In both a reversal and replay of the day Quinn first led Rachel to the bleachers under the football field, this evening found Rachel leading Quinn to her bedroom. The two locked eyes and held gazes. Rachel was the first to look away. Good, Quinn thought, she might be able to better get a handle on this whole thing without looking at Rachel. But then Rachel spoke.

"This is what is going to happen, Quinn." Rachel edged them forward down the hallway.

"You are going to fuck me and I am going to fuck you." Quinn wasn't sure what she found more startling: Rachel's directives or the words she used to relay them.

Rachel danced them across the floor of her bedroom, twirled Quinn around, and dipped her onto the bed. Quinn still felt too stunned to speak. What happened next left her fully and utterly dumbfounded. Rachel was taking off her clothes. The brunette seemed like she was swaying to a song only she could hear, and Quinn found the whole thing terribly sexy.

Fully naked now, Rachel stood before Quinn and said, "Unless you have any objections, I think you should proceed to fuck me." There was that word again, mixed in with Rachel's usual verbose, Berry-esque vocabulary. And it just made Quinn all the more excited. She nodded at Rachel and leaned forward to pull the girl to the bed. Quinn used one hand to caress Rachel's back and the other to reach down and take off her own skirt. Rachel slapped Quinn's hand away from the skirt.

"No, no. I said you were going to fuck me then I was going to fuck you. Stop trying to break the rules, Quinn." For her part, Quinn wasn't aware that there were rules involved here. Was Rachel up to something? Why couldn't Quinn get naked, too? Before Quinn could process any possible answers, Rachel reached for Quinn's hand and placed it firmly between the brunette's legs. Quinn let out a breath that sounded something between a gargle and a sigh.

"Feel me," Rachel breathed out; her eyes closing and her body moving down onto the bed. Quinn gingerly ran one finger through the length of Rachel's folds. This is what love feels like, Quinn thought. She heard Rachel moan and repeat her command, "Feel me." Quinn allowed her entire hand to navigate Rachel's soaked pussy. This is what lust feels like, Quinn thought. She moved closer to Rachel, throwing one leg over the other girl's body, and letting her unoccupied hand cup Rachel around the back of her neck. Quinn circled Rachel's clit with her thumb and Rachel rolled into the touch. She brought her mouth to Rachel's neck and bit down. Rachel gasped and Quinn repeated the motion until she could be sure she'd left her mark on Rachel's skin. Maybe this was what it came to in the end: Rachel might get fucked first, but Quinn was the first to leave her mark.

Quinn could sense Rachel's body becoming frustrated below her. Rachel was frantically shuddering beneath her, trying to better feel the friction of Quinn's thumb on her clit. The girl was painfully digging her fingernails into Quinn's back. "Feel me," Rachel practically screamed.

Slowly, Quinn slipped a finger inside of Rachel. This is what everything, everything, everything perfect in the world feels like, Quinn thought. Rachel initially tensed at the intrusion, and Quinn simply let her finger stay still inside the girl. She bent down and gave Rachel a lingering kiss. "Relax," she whispered into Rachel's mouth. Rachel nodded and Quinn felt encouraged enough to cautiously arch her finger upward. Rachel hissed and Quinn immediately stopped her movement. "Keep going, keep going!" Rachel begged.

Quinn took a steadying breath and shifted her finger deeper inside Rachel. The brunette instantly pushed forward to match the tempo Quinn was rapidly establishing.

"Oh my fuck. Oh my fuck," Rachel moaned out. Quinn chanced a look at Rachel's face. The girl's eyes were focusing on the movement of Quinn's hand. Quinn took the opportunity to further capitalize on Rachel's rapt attention. She slowly removed her finger from Rachel, who groaned out in frustration. Quinn brought her finger to her mouth and swirled her tongue around and around the digit. Rachel groaned again, but not in frustration.

"Quinn…please," Rachel pleaded.

Quinn was enjoying this. Let Rachel beg. "Please, what, Rachel?" She asked innocently.

"Being a tease does not suit you, Quinn Fabray!"

Quinn chuckled. "Sure it does. I…" But Rachel was apparently finished with Quinn's teasing. She pounced on Quinn and pushed her down. Quinn's head felt light and her pulse picked up as Rachel positioned herself in such a way that the brunette's pussy was right in front of her face.

"Use your mouth for something other than talking," Rachel said.

Quinn swallowed hard. She swiped her tongue along Rachel's inner thigh. The brunette pushed forward with a moan so loud that Quinn moaned with her. Quinn summoned her courage and ran her tongue up the length of Rachel. She sucked on Rachel's clit and Rachel bucked into Quinn's mouth with a gasp. Quinn gently placed her hands on Rachel's waist to guide the other girl's movements. Rachel was dripping now and some of the wetness coated Quinn's face. This is what trust feels like, Quinn thought. Quinn darted her tongue inside Rachel and twirled it up against Rachel's walls again and again. And again and again Rachel matched her pace. Quinn felt Rachel's body tense.

"Fucking make me come," Rachel screamed out. Quinn removed one of her hands from the brunette's hips and used her fingers to pinch Rachel's clit.

Rachel was surprisingly quiet when she came.

Rachel collapsed on top of Quinn with a final moan of release. Quinn tried to reach for Rachel and kiss her, but Rachel pulled back with a laugh. "Wait…just wait...let me catch my breath."

Quinn waited. It took a few minutes for Rachel's breathing to turn from irregular back to even and steady. Quinn shut her eyes, content for the moment just to listen to Rachel breathe. She wasn't sure how much time passed before she noticed the rhythm of Rachel's breathing had changed again. The girl's breaths were now steady and deep.

"Rachel?" Quinn whispered. No response. "Rachel!" Quinn repeated. Still no response. It was increasingly clear to Quinn that Rachel had fallen asleep. Quinn shut her eyes, content for the moment to just let Rachel sleep.

Quinn awoke with a start. It was dark outside and she couldn't initially place her surroundings. Her eyes roamed the room in search of a clock when she glanced upon the face of Rachel Berry. Quinn's first response was one of relief as she recalled the events that transpired between the two girls earlier in the evening. Rachel was wearing clothes now. Quinn sat up and Rachel smiled. There was something troubling about Rachel's smile. That feeling of uneasiness settled over Quinn again.

Abruptly, there was a forceful, demanding knock on Rachel's bedroom door.


	5. 5 Don't Speak or You'll Break the Spell

**AN: First, not sure why isn't formulating my section breaks correctly. So, any time you see (break) you'll know that I've transitioned to a new section. Forgive me, this is my first fan fiction and I'm still trying to navigate the terrain. **

**I love that many of you think Rachel is up to something. I thought that Quinn would come off as more of a villain in the last chapter. Either way, these girls certainly don't trust each other. In this chapter, you are going to find out just how much this impacts them. I'd be interested to know how you feel about Quinn, in particular, by the end of this chapter. Again, thanks for reading! **

Hiram Berry was whistling as he headed home from Akron. He loved "date" nights with his husband Leroy. Secretly, all the attention Leroy received from other men pleased Hiram. And there were no shortage of men smiling appreciatively and approaching Leroy for conversation as the two men stood in the lobby of the Akron Movie Palace at the end of the gay pride film festival. But Hiram knew just when to sweep in and reclaim his man from the clutches of whichever admirer was currently trying to flirt his way into Leroy's heart. Or pants. Or, more realistically, both. It kept things fun between the two men. And Leroy was such a good man. And a good father. Not to mention a sweet and caring son. Leroy was, in fact, staying with his parents in Akron over the weekend to help them with household repairs. Such a good, good man was Hiram Berry's Leroy.

Still whistling, Hiram turned down his street and glanced at his home. He stopped whistling. There was an unfamiliar car in the driveway.

Oh sweet and merciful Adonai, he thought, please do not let that be some boy's car. Rachel hadn't mentioned having any friends over. She always, always cleared it with her fathers before inviting anyone to the Berry home. Hiram put his foot more firmly on the gas pedal. He looked up at Rachel's window as he pulled into his driveway. The light was out. He glanced at the clock on his dashboard. The time read 9:23. Rachel should have been finishing up her homework at this hour, not already in bed. Unless…

Oh sweet and merciful Adonai, she had a boy in her room! Don't panic, Hiram. Do. Not. Panic. Maybe a friend of Rachel's stopped by unexpectedly and his daughter – ever the gracious host – was right now entertaining in the den. He gazed the length of his house, searching for any sign of light. He found none. Do. Not. Panic. He could feel his chest contract and he briefly cursed himself for not owning an aspirator. Sure, he didn't have asthma, but desperate times and all that. He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing.

It wasn't working. Why this, oh sweet and merciful Adonai, on a night when Leroy was not with him? Why, really, any night at all? Rachel was too young to lose her virginity! Hiram made a dash for the front door – maybe she was still just making out with the guy. Hiram cringed at the thought, but it gave him a burst of incentive. He could put a stop to whatever shenanigans this boy was up to with his daughter. He ran up the stairs, hearing the wheezing of his breath in the undertones of his steps, and paused at Rachel's bedroom door.

They'd always had a "knock on the door before entering policy" in the Berry household, but desperate times and all that. Hiram would just have to live with the possibility that waltzing in on Rachel and some boy – Hiram nearly gagged at the thought - might cause him temporary blindness. Or permanent insanity. Wishing again that Leroy was with him, Hiram opened his daughter's bedroom door.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared Hiram for what he saw. Rachel was lying naked and nearly hanging over the edge of the bed. Rachel was naked! Hiram blinked several times in quick succession. Do. Not. Panic. He tried to avoid looking directly at his daughter by glancing around her. Someone was lying under Rachel. Oh sweet and merciful Adonai! After again blinking rapidly to ascertain he could still see correctly, Hiram noted that the person under his daughter was a girl. A girl?

His head was swimming. The wheezing in his breath picked up and turned into a full-blown hitch at the back of his throat. He vaguely heard rather than saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He gaped down at his daughter and snapped his eyes shut. Before he could react further, Rachel swiftly and efficiently grabbed at some clothes and ushered them both out of the room.

"Keep your back turned a minute, Daddy," Rachel said.

Hiram found Rachel's tone way too calm. He was practically having a heart attack. She sounded like the conversation they were about to have was as trivial as discussing the weather!

"Okay, you can turn around now."

Hiram looked at his daughter. He couldn't read her expression and it scared him. She was usually so transparent. He searched his mind for any passages from the numerous books he and Leroy had read about raising a teenage daughter. He stumbled upon a thought and went with it.

"Rachel," he said. Slowly and gently, he continued, "Do you want to share with me how you are feeling? Can you describe your emotions?"

Rachel cocked her head to the side and favored Hiram with a questioning look.

He tried another tactic. "As your parent, you know that I am a person you can trust. I ask that you trust me now and explain to me…"

Rachel interrupted, "Daddy, I know this must be awkward for you and it certainly isn't any fun day on Broadway for me. However, I think we should discuss this in the morning. I'd be happy to have a meaningful and illuminating conversation with you at that time. Now, I simply must get back inside and tend to Quinn."

And with that Rachel turned from her father, re-entered her bedroom, and closed the door with one final, brief smile thrown out to Hiram. He wasn't sure how long he stood in the hallway. Long enough for a headache to start dancing along the edges of his temples. Long enough for the wheezing of his breath to slow down just long enough for his acid reflux to act up. As if under a trance, Hiram made his way back downstairs.

He wracked his brain trying to figure out which one of Rachel's friends – girlfriend? – was Quinn. When he finally connected the name to a memory, he sat down heavily on the couch. The cheerleader who got pregnant last year? It was last year, right? And by Ruth Puckerman's grandson? Hiram sat up. Okay, maybe not so bad, then. If Quinn was Jewish…

Hiram crashed his body backwards into the couch once more when he realized that, no, Quinn was a Christian. He remembered how Ruth Puckerman would complain to anyone who would listen that her sweet Noah was mixed up with some Christian girl. And not just any Christian girl, but the daughter of Russell Fabray! Everyone in Lima knew that Russell Fabray donated large sums of money to his church. The Fabrays had their own pew that no one else could occupy. Even on Sundays when they did not attend church!

Hiram leapt up and headed for the medicine cabinet. He took out four Tylenol, three antacid, and – just for giggles – a valium. He dashed toward the front door. Hiram needed his Leroy right now, but he didn't trust himself to have the conversation inside the house. He knew he was going to break down – hard – and that was something he didn't want Rachel to hear. Hiram backtracked to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. There, he saw a dessert Rachel had baked into the shape of a star. His throat tensed up and he started to cry. Oh sweet and merciful Adonai, his little girl! Baking for her Dad and Daddy and…and then…letting some girl defile her! Hiram was having trouble seeing through his tears. He practically ran out the back door, stumbled over Leroy's sneakers – Leroy! – and dashed to his car. He'd not even gotten his phone out of his jacket pocket before a fresh wave of tears overtook him.

(Break)

Rachel hadn't meant to fall asleep. It was a little embarrassing. What good was an elliptical machine and dance classes and natural high levels of energy if you ended up falling asleep seconds after having sex? But Quinn's body was so warm and Quinn's hands were rubbing small circles up and down her back and, well, Rachel had fallen asleep. She slept until her Daddy unceremoniously stomped into her room and nearly had a panic attack on the spot. Jumping up quickly, Rachel grabbed at whatever clothes she could find before ushering her father out of her room. She glanced back at Quinn and was surprised to see that the blonde girl was asleep. She smiled and closed the door as quietly as possible.

She knew she had to remain calm or her Daddy would freak out even worse. And that just meant he would start to screech in that off-pitch tone he adopted whenever his stress levels got too high. Rachel didn't want her Daddy to wake Quinn. She was fairly certain that Quinn would try to flee right past her and her father should she wake up and hear the conversation. Rachel wanted to break this news to Quinn in such a way that might, somehow, salvage the remainder of their night. It was rare that Rachel used her parental tone on one of her fathers, and she was a little shocked when it worked on her Daddy.

She felt bad taking advantage of her Daddy's ramblings and deer in the highlights look, but Quinn Fabray was half-naked in her bed and she intended on following through with her plan. Quinn was still asleep when Rachel stepped back inside the room and sat gingerly down on the bed. She wasn't sure how long she simply sat and stared at the sleeping girl. Long enough to notice the splay of freckles on Quinn's shoulders. Long enough to want to reach out and take off Quinn's skirt with her teeth.

Rachel was lost in these thoughts when Quinn snapped her eyes open and looked around the room frantically. Her eyes alighted on Rachel. Just like with her father, Rachel had to play this one very, very carefully. She smiled as calmly as her rapidly beating heart would allow.

Abruptly, there was a forceful, demanding knock on Rachel's bedroom door.

Quinn jumped up and wrapped a sheet around her body. She just as quickly whirled toward Rachel and forcefully shoved the brunette in front of her, as if using Rachel as a protective shield. "I'm not going down alone, Rachel," Quinn said with a hint of malice in her voice.

Rachel made a mental note to find out later what that meant, exactly.

"Rachel and…Quinn. I just got off the phone with your Dad…Rachel's Dad…and I will need to see both you girls in the kitchen at seven in the morning." There was a brief pause before Hiram continued, "Seven sharp, girls." There was another pause. "Good night."

"Rachel?" Quinn sounded hesitant and unsure.

"Please don't panic, Quinn, but my Daddy saw us…"

Quinn didn't wait for Rachel to finish. "What do you mean saw us? He saw us have sex? Oh my God, I thought they were in Akron."

"They were…and my Dad still is…but it's after ten now. Plenty of time for my Daddy to get home. I never meant to fall asleep…"

"Oh my God, how much did he see? Why didn't he stop us?"

Rachel bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Quinn was just too cute: Her hair all mussed up, eyes still heavy with sleep, a sheet haphazardly covering her frame.

"He didn't see us have sex! He saw us asleep together."

"I'm going home just as soon as your father goes to bed. What time does he usually go to sleep?"

"Not your brightest idea, Quinn. My Daddy will probably sleep on the couch and they'll be no way around him. Regardless, he'll be on the lookout for you."

Rachel watched as Quinn resigned herself to the current situation. "Fine," Quinn huffed. "But I'm sleeping on the floor."

"That's unnecessary and, besides, we have something we need to finish." Rachel reached for Quinn's hand and ran her tongue along the inside of the girl's palm. The sheet dropped from around Quinn and Rachel knew her plan was back on track.

"Rachel…your father," Quinn whispered as Rachel brought her lips to Quinn's face. She felt the other girl tremble.

"He may be on the lookout for you," Rachel swiped her tongue inside Quinn's ear, "But he's certainly not going to come back in here to find you."

Rachel inched her fingers lower and tugged at the zipper on Quinn's skirt. Quinn made no move to help her. She also made no move to stop her. Rachel bent down and placed her hands behind Quinn's knees. She latched her mouth onto Quinn's skirt and pushed it slowly down the length of Quinn's legs with her teeth. Above her, Quinn sighed appreciatively. Rachel now found herself staring at Quinn's panties. They were already wet. Rachel smiled and put her nose directly against Quinn's center. She wanted to smell Quinn. The blonde gasped and Rachel yanked off her panties in one swift motion. She could see Quinn's wetness now, glimmering on the sides of her thighs. She gave Quinn's folds a fleeting but hard lick and Quinn tumbled onto the bed. Rachel hastily removed her clothes and joined Quinn on the bed.

In a dazed tone, Quinn questioned, "Thought it was my turn to get fucked?"

"Sorry. I created the rules. I can break them."

Rachel spread Quinn's legs, threw one of her own over the blonde, and crashed her pussy into Quinn. Quinn let out a strangled moan. Rachel lifted herself from Quinn long enough to spread Quinn's folds with her fingers. She lowered herself again and, this time, their clits rubbed together. Rachel watched as Quinn's eyes rolled back into her head.

The two girls began to move together in a rhythm that was at first awkward and unsteady. They gradually matched each other's thrusts. Rachel's hands found Quinn's breasts and she worked the pad of her thumb against Quinn's straining nipples. Quinn pressed a pillow against her face and moaned loudly into it. Rachel pinched each of Quinn's nipples and groaned when Quinn bucked up into her. The feeling of Quinn's clit against her own, and the wetness flowing between them, caused a low but insistent ache to form in Rachel's center.

She pressed two fingers inside Quinn with no preamble. Quinn moaned into the pillow again and thrust herself against Rachel even harder. Rachel marveled over the feel of being inside Quinn Fabray. It made her feel powerful. Quinn's pussy was tighter than Rachel would've expected. She savored the way Quinn's walls seemed to clutch at her fingers. She slowly slide them out of Quinn only to press inside the blonde again. Quinn lifted herself forward and pressed her lips against Rachel's neck. Quinn's movements shifted Rachel's hand in such a way that her knuckles now pushed against her clit as she thrust her fingers in and out of Quinn. The blonde began to shiver uncontrollably and she wrapped her arms around Rachel to keep upright. They rocked together seamlessly.

Quinn buried her face in Rachel's neck and she could feel Quinn's walls pulsing faster and faster beneath her fingers. Rachel curved her fingers upward and pressed her body more firmly into Quinn.

"Rachel…Rachel…Rachel" were the words that flew from Quinn's mouth into Rachel's neck as she came.

Rachel was once again silent when her own orgasm hit her seconds later.

Neither girl spoke as Quinn collapsed to the bed and rolled over on her side. It was Quinn who fell asleep first this time. Rachel drifted off by counting out the rhythm of Quinn's breaths. She awoke at close to six and glanced at Quinn. She had a sheet covering her and her mouth hung slightly agape. It was too much temptation for Rachel. She slowly removed the sheet from Quinn's body. That did the trick; Quinn woke up and blinked at Rachel.

"What time is it?" Quinn looked down to see Rachel with a balled up sheet in her hand. "And what are you doing?"

"I owe you one. I said you were going to get fucked and then I ended up being selfish."

"Yeah…but I did get fucked, remember?"

"Still, I broke the rules."

"Thought you said you could change them since you were the all-mighty creator of said rules."

"Well, that just means I can change them back." And with that, Rachel lifted Quinn from the bed and pushed the girl back down in such a way that the blonde was on her knees. Rachel pressed her breasts into Quinn's ass and both girls sighed. She reached around with one hand and cupped Quinn's breast. She used her other hand to swipe through Quinn's pussy. Quinn's body moved back into Rachel's and the brunette easily slipped two fingers inside Quinn.

Her fingers picked up speed as Quinn found her rhythm. Quinn reached for Rachel's hand and guided a third finger inside her. Rachel stifled a moan by biting her lower lip. Quinn kept her hand around Rachel's wrist as the two girls moved together.

"Give it to me harder," Quinn panted. Rachel added a fourth finger. She was stretching Quinn now and once again that feeling of power surged through her. She removed her fingers and Quinn sighed out in annoyance. Just as quickly, Rachel roughly slammed all four fingers back into Quinn.

Quinn's body heaved forward and Rachel heard the blonde call out her name as she came around Rachel's fingers. Rachel's hand was drenched. One by one she placed them in her mouth and licked Quinn's juices from her fingers. Quinn smiled lazily up at Rachel and Rachel replied with a grin of her own.

Neither girl fell asleep that time. They lay silent on the bed with their backs turned away from the other. Rachel broke the silence.

"Can I see you over the weekend?"

"Sadly, no. Going out of town for a family reunion.

Rachel worked hard not to let any exasperation seep into her voice. "Well, I hope you have a good time."

Quinn laughed. "Clearly this comes from someone who's never met my family."

"I'm sure there are many lovely people in your family."

Rachel wasn't surprised when Quinn changed the subject. "I really don't want to talk to your father this morning."

Rachel laughed. "I'll sneak you out the front door."

"I thought you said he'd be on the lookout for me."

"Yeah, he would've been last night, but this morning he'll expect you in the kitchen, so you can make your grand escape out the front door while I delay him."

"But I don't want him to think I'm some, I don't know, molester or something."

Rachel laughed again. "Just let me handle him. I'll explain your absence."

"All right." Quinn didn't sound too convinced but she said nothing more on the subject. The two girls watched the sunrise together in silence.

"I think you should leave now," Rachel whispered to Quinn a short time later.

"Are you sure you don't want me to talk to your father?"

"Honestly, Quinn, I'll take care of it. Trust me." The two girls got dressed in silence. They left Rachel's room together.

Quinn looked both relieved and concerned as she made her way quietly downstairs. She stopped at the door and turned back to face the brunette. Rachel bent toward her, kissed her lightly on the nose, and opened the door for the blonde. It was fairly easy getting Quinn out of Rachel's house and Rachel was never more grateful that her father liked to listen to NPR – loudly – each morning when he prepared breakfast. He never even heard a thing.

Rachel watched as Quinn made her way to her car. Quinn turned once and caught Rachel's eye. She smiled tentatively at Rachel and Rachel gave her a little wave. She left her spot by the front door only after Quinn's car pulled out of the driveway.

(Break)

Hiram didn't feel much like whistling that morning. He usually whistled happily to the classic music on NPR as he prepared breakfast for his family. His conversation with Leroy the night before had left him a bit melancholy and overwhelmed.

Upon learning the news about Rachel, Leroy had reacted in a way that Hiram wasn't expecting. Leroy had laughed.

"Hiram, you knew this day was going to happen. Honey, just try to calm down."

"But…our little girl…I just can't!" Hiram managed to croak out through his sobs.

"Baby, take as long as you need to calm down. But don't be rash. Talk to Rachel and Quinn tomorrow morning. If you go back up there, you'll just make things worse. You won't be able to control your emotions. You'll end up scaring poor Quinn and you know how Rachel will react. She'll just stomp her foot at you and launch into a speech about her rights of privacy in her own house. So, breathe deeply, sweetie. And talk to them tomorrow." Hiram wondered if Leroy hadn't been reading books on how to calm down a distraught husband.

He spent most of the night lying on the couch and reading up on lesbianism. He bookmarked a few articles so he'd have them on the ready the next morning when he spoke with his daughter and Quinn.

That morning, Rachel entered the kitchen and Hiram glanced behind her, expecting to see Quinn.

"Where is Quinn?"

"She left," Rachel said, picking up an apple and taking a bite.

Hiram stared at his daughter. Again, he thought she was handling this too calmly.

"Rachel, I asked to speak to both you girls."

"Yes, Daddy, I know. But Quinn doesn't know you and I'm afraid you are going to upset her. And if you decide to ground me or forbid me to see Quinn for any length of time, I will relay the message to her." Rachel took another bite out of her apple and sat down at the kitchen table.

Rachel's demeanor was scaring Hiram all over again. He felt like he didn't know this Rachel at all. Instead of opening his laptop and pulling up an article he'd bookmarked the night before, he sat down across from his daughter.

"Are you in love with Quinn?"

Rachel stopped chewing and gave her father a blank look.

"You shouldn't be having sex with someone if you don't love them, boy or girl."

"How I feel about Quinn is my business, Daddy. I'm sorry, but I just want to keep certain things private. At least for now. "Rachel took another bite from her apple and spoke again, "So, what's my punishment?"

"There is no punishment. I just think you should be careful of your feelings. And maybe…slow down a bit? Figure out how you feel before acting on impulse."

Rachel smiled at her father but Hiram saw no mirth or happiness in Rachel's eyes. This conversation was not going according to plan. Not for the first time that morning, Hiram desperately wished that Leroy was home.

Rachel stood up, threw the core of her apple away, and kissed Hiram on the forehead. "Daddy, I promise I know what I'm doing, and I know that you're here for me should I have any doubts or questions." And with that, Rachel left the kitchen and bounded up the stairs.

Hiram sat back in his chair. He couldn't tell anyone just why, but his conversation with Rachel made him feel something that felt a lot like sympathy for Quinn. It wasn't anything Rachel had said, not exactly, but Hiram felt a little sorry for Quinn. And he didn't know how to deal with that. Not at all.

(Break)

Quinn spent her weekend lost in the haze of her mind. She could barely keep up her end of the seemingly endless conversations she had with her relatives. She was thinking about Rachel too much. In particular, she was thinking about sex with Rachel too much. She found herself remembering the feel of Rachel's bare body against her breasts. Or how Rachel would moan a certain way when Quinn leaned her body against her. Or…any number of things.

She was feeling restless. Part of it was that she wished she were home in Lima and able to have sex with Rachel Berry. Part of it was that she still felt anxious and ill at ease. It seemed to Quinn that it had been almost too easy, the out Rachel gave her on Friday morning. But he was Rachel's father, after all, and Rachel surely knew how to handle him on her own. Maybe she was just trying to protect Quinn. Yet it was hard for Quinn to let go of her insecurities. She found it equally difficult to keep denying what she'd known since she was fifteen: She was very much in love with Rachel.

But she wasn't sure how Rachel felt about her. Could Rachel have genuine feelings for her? Did Rachel just want to have sex? Was Quinn just a "safe" person to have sex with since there was no way she could get Rachel pregnant? Quinn knew she was over-thinking things. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. She felt like she was reading a novel, but someone had torn out every other page.

She'd received one text from Rachel that weekend: "See you on Monday?"

Quinn waited two hours after receiving the text before she sent a response in the affirmative. She wasn't about to come off as needy. She had a sneaking suspicion that "See you on Monday" didn't mean that Quinn would just be seeing Rachel at school that day.

And she was right. Rachel made it clear on Monday morning that she wanted to see Quinn later that evening. Quinn insisted they meet at her house.

"My mother wouldn't know I was having sex if I had a roomful of sailors come traipsing in and out of my room at night."

"Who said anything about having sex, Quinn?"

Quinn felt her face turn about fifteen shades of red at once. Rachel just laughed and moved on down the halls of McKinley.

On Monday evening Quinn Fabray had her first multiple orgasm when Rachel pumped into her with three fingers while simultaneously tonguing her clit.

On Tuesday evening Quinn Fabray made Rachel come so hard that the brunette nearly flung them both off Quinn's bed.

Wednesday evening found the girls at Rachel's house. Quinn's mother was hosting a dinner party and Rachel's fathers were working late. Quinn spent that evening mapping Rachel's body with her tongue, with her fingers, and with her heart. They took time to savor each other. It wasn't about having an orgasm; it was about better learning each other's bodies and needs and rhythms. And this evening was the first time they'd cuddled afterwards. Quinn found herself dangerously close to sleep until Rachel's voice snapped her back to consciousness.

"We never talk," Rachel whispered into the dark of her room.

"We're talking right now."

"You know that I mean. We never talk about what's happening between us."

"We're having sex."

Quinn heard Rachel sigh as the girl rolled over and turned away from her.

"Fine. We're having sex." There was a hint of barely controlled anger in Rachel's tone.

Quinn had known this conversation was coming, but she wasn't ready for it. They'd only been sleeping together less than a week. Why was Rachel so quick to want to speculate about what that might mean? She was just now getting re-adjusted to her feelings for Rachel, and she hadn't reached a point where she could verbalize them. But she knew that Rachel was stubborn and not quick to let things go. They'd probably be having this conversation tonight no matter how Quinn felt about it.

Maybe she could bluff her way through it. Quinn could tell Rachel she cared for her without admitting that she was actually in love with her. There was no need for Rachel to know that Quinn had been in love with her since the age of fifteen.

"Rachel, this is all just so overwhelming. I'm still trying to process a lot of stuff."

"I can understand that. And I'm trying to process a lot of stuff, too."

Several minutes of silence passed between them; enough time for Quinn to think she'd dodged the conversation after all. Then Rachel laughed.

"You know…I used to think I was in love with you. Over the summer…"

Quinn wasn't certain if Rachel was still speaking or not. She couldn't hear over the pounding in her head. So Rachel had been playing her. This was a revenge plan after all. Quinn should have known better. Rachel had only wanted to make Quinn feel vulnerable; maybe even make Quinn fall for her just so she could say: "See, this is how you used to make me feel. When I thought I was in love with you." She'd wanted to give Quinn a taste of comfort, safety, trust because it was sure to enhance Quinn's misery when Rachel revealed the truth. Once again Quinn had been so close to telling Rachel how she felt. How could she be so stupid? Anger flared inside her; choking out every other emotion.

Quinn rolled Rachel toward her.

"Quinn, not so hard!" Rachel squealed.

But Quinn didn't think she was being hard enough. She stood up, grabbed Rachel by the hair, and dragged the girl off the bed.

"Quinn!" Rachel was shouting now.

"You used to be in love with me? Oh my God, that is rich!" Quinn gripped Rachel by the wrists and pushed her upwards.

"You are hurting me! Stop it!" Rachel was close to tears.

Quinn was dimly aware that she'd jerked Rachel so roughly that, for a few seconds, Rachel's feet left the floor and dangled helplessly in the air.

"I'm done with you, Rachel."

"Done with your games." She shouted this directly into Rachel's face.

"Done with your manipulation." Quinn shoved Rachel and the brunette thudded to the floor.

"Done with it all." Quinn grabbed at the nearest object, a hair brush as it turned out, and flung it against Rachel's mirror. The glass shattered and Quinn saw untold reflections of herself staring back at her as she ran out of Rachel's room.

As soon as she left Rachel's house she nearly collided with Kurt. Another thought clicked inside Quinn's mind. Kurt was in on this, too! Why else would he be at Rachel's that evening? Rachel hadn't mentioned he'd be stopping by and everyone knew Kurt spent every waking minute with Blaine. She launched herself at Kurt.

"Fuck you! Fuck off!" She repeated her mantra over and over as she beat her fists against his chest. And just as quickly she turned from him and ran. She ran until the hitch in her side forced her to slow down. She walked the rest of the way home. It took her about an hour. She spent that time formulating a plan. There was no way Rachel Berry was going to come out of this unscathed; not after what she'd just done to Quinn.

Quinn arrived at McKinley earlier than usual the following day. She knew by now just what time Rachel arrived at school. Quinn wanted to make sure she was there before Rachel so she could better ambush the other girl. She hadn't counted on Rachel coming to school early. But, sure enough, Rachel was just getting out of her car when Quinn pulled into the parking lot. She forced herself not to run after Rachel. She'd wait until she was right behind the girl before making her move. But, sure enough, Rachel turned in her direction, took one look at Quinn, and sped up.

Both girls entered McKinley at nearly the same time. Quinn was about to grab Rachel by her arm and pull her into any empty room she could find when she heard Santana and Kurt call out to the brunette. It was obvious that neither of them had yet noticed Quinn standing behind Rachel.

"Rachel, wait up!" Quinn balked as she heard Santana call out to Rachel. Santana was in on this, too! Kurt, well, Kurt she could understand. He was one of Rachel's closest friends. But Santana? Santana was supposed to be one of Quinn's best friends. And she didn't even like Rachel! How deep was this plot against Quinn? Who else was involved?

This was too much for Quinn. How long had they planned this? She felt dizzy and nauseous. She pivoted away from her tormentors and left McKinley. She needed away from this place. Away from Rachel Berry. Away from the awful emotions rumbling through her heart. She checked to make sure her father's "I'm sorry for being a dick, here I hope this makes up for it" credit card was still in her bag. She quickly typed an address into her GPS device and headed for the interstate.


	6. 6 Santana Lopez Takes a Chance

**AN: Thanks to everyone still reading this story. I take your reviews into account and I always find them helpful. So, I appreciate any and all reviews. Even if I had zero reviews, though, I'd still write this story because I'm having a helluva good time with it. This chapter picks up with Santana and Kurt confronting Rachel in the hallway at McKinley. **

Santana glared at Kurt. Whatever gossip he wanted to share with Rachel was going to have to wait. She had more important matters to discuss with the girl. Santana marched over to Rachel, took her by the hand, and led them towards the Cheerios locker room. No way could Kurt follow them in there, no matter how much he protested that he had more in common with the girls than the boys. But something or someone was clearly out to get Santana because she could hear Kurt running behind them to catch up. Before she could usher Rachel into the locker room, Kurt blocked the door.

He favored Santana with that look that she'd long ago dubbed as sassy. Santana rolled her eyes and tried to push Kurt away from the door.

"Santana please let me talk to Rachel!" Kurt was almost whining and his voice was already starting to grate on her nerves.

She clinched her teeth and replied, "Kurt, I needz to get my talk on with Rachel, so why don't you just trot on over to the cafeteria and go find your dream boat. He'll probably have a coffee all ready for you, fixed just the way you like it. And I'm sure, even though you probably saw him last night, he misses you already." Santana gave a little pout and tried to push past Kurt again.

Rachel finally spoke and until that moment Santana had actually forgotten that Rachel was standing beside her. She'd been quiet for too long. And Santana knew that silence was a foreign concept to Rachel. Santana felt her heart rate speed up and it reminded her that Rachel had been like this the night before: Sullen and…empty. Yeah, empty. Maybe Santana didn't want Kurt to leave after all.

"You can both talk to me at the same time." There was no pep in Rachel's voice, no spirit.

Santana glanced at Kurt. She figured the worried expression on his face mirrored the one on her own. Santana bit the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit from childhood that she hadn't quite been able to beat, and shrugged at Kurt. He shrugged back. Santana was at a loss. What now?

Rachel made the decision for her. She walked to the side exit of McKinley and opened the door. Turning back to Santana and Kurt, she said, "You can follow me if you want. Or you can leave me alone." Rachel didn't give them a chance to answer.

Kurt was the first to follow Rachel. Santana almost decided against it. One of the options was, after all, to leave Rachel alone. Surely Brittany would understand that she'd tried her best! But what if Kurt found out something and the news got back to Brittany? With a frustrated sigh, Santana ran out of the school after Rachel.

She wasn't sure why Rachel thought under the bleachers was a good place to talk. It was just plain filthy under here. Santana glanced mournfully down at her shoes and noticed dirt was already caking the soles. Coach was going to have her ass for this, she thought forlornly.

Rachel was pacing back and forth. She'd yet to speak and Santana's frustration was building to such a level that she wanted to yell at Rachel to hurry up and get on with it. She was going to miss home room as it was, but Brittany would worry if she missed first period geography.

Kurt was the one to coax Rachel out of her silence. "Rachel, do you have any idea why Quinn tried to manhandle me last night?"

Santana had two thoughts simultaneously: Who the hell used the word manhandle and, wait, Quinn tried to beat the shit out of Kurt?

She glanced back at Rachel and waited to hear the brunette's response.

"Probably because after she finished manhandling me, she wanted to keep going." Rachel's voice sounded lethargic and, to Santana, it didn't seem as if she cared too much at all that Quinn had tried to hurt Kurt.

"Wait, what were you doing at Rachel's last night?" Santana asked. Mentally, the question in her mind was a little different: What was Quinn doing at Rachel's last night?

"I was driving home from Blaine's and I thought I saw Brittany come out of Rachel's house…"

"Now just why would Britt be at Rachel's? " Santana favored Kurt with her best bitch face.

Kurt looked sheepishly over at Santana. "I thought she was telling Rachel about my campaign."

Santana knew this was not the moment to let her temper get the better of her. But, really, how dare he accuse Brittany of such things! She was about to tell Kurt off when Rachel said something that snapped her jaw closed tightly.

"Quinn and I are sleeping together."

Santana had nothing to say to that. Apparently, neither did Kurt. They both stared at Rachel with matching looks of incredulity. Santana had a short but strong pang of envy shoot straight through her. Here Rachel was openly admitting to sleeping with another girl, and Santana didn't even have the guts to tell anyone – anyone! – that she was with Brittany. She pushed the thought from her mind.

"So…what happened to make Quinn 'manhandle' you?" Santana used air quotes around the word manhandle. She figured if she was in this thing with Kurt and Rachel now, she'd have to employ their language.

"I told her I was in love with her." Rachel paused and resumed her pacing. "I mean, I've thought for years I was in love with her… I spent a lot of time over the summer thinking about it. I mean, maybe I just thought I was in love with her…but I actually wasn't. You know, I could've just been fooling myself. But…it all clicked for me one day…and I knew it was love. I didn't just think it anymore…I knew it! I finally knew it! And…and especially after we started having sex…I realized just how much I love her."

None of this was adding up for Santana and Rachel's rambles weren't helping. She frowned over at Kurt and he returned her look. God, Santana thought, when did Kurt Hummel become her mirror? They both stayed silent and waited for Rachel to continue.

"And Quinn obviously didn't want to hear me talk about love." With no warning, Rachel bent over, clutched at her stomach, and started to wail. "She was just using me for sex," Rachel choked out. "And the minute I mentioned the word love…she…she pushed me. She…broke my mirror…" Rachel trailed off, sunk to the ground, and let the tears overtake her.

Santana couldn't seem to move. She watched as Kurt ran over to Rachel and enveloped her in a hug. Kurt rocked Rachel back and forth. He glanced up at Santana and motioned to Rachel's wrists. Printed on the sides of each of Rachel's wrists were faint bruises in the shape of fingertips. Santana winced. Quinn had done that to Rachel?

Santana turned her back on Kurt and Rachel. What the fuck was wrong with Quinn? Santana was about to turn around and ask Rachel more questions when, suddenly, she knew exactly what was wrong with Quinn.

Quinn's reaction was sadly all too familiar to Santana. She remembered the first time Brittany confessed her love to her. They'd just finished getting dressed after having sex. Brittany had convinced Santana to lie back down and cuddle for a few more minutes. And who was Santana Lopez to deny such a simple request? She'd just gotten comfortable when Brittany leaned down and whispered "I love you" into Santana's ear. Her response was to push Brittany off her. It was an accident that Brittany proceeded to tumble off the bed.

Santana helped Brittany to her feet. But she refused to look at the girl.

"Jesus, Brittany, you're not in love with me! We're just having sex. I like guys. You like guys. This is just…just…sex." And she'd left Brittany, shaken and alone, in her room.

Though it appeared that Quinn's reaction was a lot more forceful than Santana's, the intent was basically the same. Quinn Fabray was in love with Rachel Berry!

Santana whirled around just in time to hear Kurt speak.

"Don't waste your time on Quinn. She's not worth it. You'll find someone who loves you, Rachel, I promise. Finn still loves you, you know that, right? "

Santana gaped at Kurt. Was he for real? Was Kurt seriously trying to push Rachel off on Finn? It hit too close to home for Santana. Brittany had started dating Artie after Santana's rejection. She was determined that Rachel not make the same mistake. But how could she reason with Rachel without revealing her feelings for Brittany?

"Maybe you should talk to Quinn." That was all Santana could come up with at the moment.

"Rachel doesn't need to talk to Quinn," Kurt argued. "And it looks like Quinn's taken to talking with her hands these days."

Santana balked. How was she going to handle this? "But…maybe you should let her explain…"

Kurt interjected, "There is no explanation for this!" He gestured at Rachel's wrists. He helped Rachel to her feet, put his arm around the girl, and led her away from the bleachers.

Santana blocked their path and looked at Rachel. "Rachel, talk to Quinn."

"What's the use, Santana? She made it perfectly clear how she feels about me. And, frankly, I'm tired of trying with her. She's ignored me for years. I'm not even sure why she slept with me. But I now know she doesn't love me. And Finn does love me. He'd never hurt me like Quinn."

Santana couldn't believe Rachel's words. She was going to date Finn just because Finn wouldn't hurt her? And how was it possible to be in any relationship without risking the chance of being hurt? Aside from not being fair to Finn – something that Santana didn't care all too much about – this was all kinds of wrong. But the only thing she could do was watch as Kurt and Rachel made their way back to the school.

Feelings of helplessness and dissatisfaction wormed through way into Santana's consciousness. Fuck it, she thought. She wasn't going to let Rachel off the hook. But that meant Santana was going to have to dangle some bait at the brunette. She took out her phone and sent a quick text to Brittany that she wouldn't be in geography, she'd explain later, don't worry.

She stared hard at her phone and thumbed her way through her contact list until she found Quinn's name. She hesitated for a brief second and pushed send. Quinn didn't answer. Wanting to throw her phone against the bleachers, Santana instead sent Quinn a text: Where r u? Call or text me.

She waited fifteen minutes before trotting back towards the school. She had one more option, but she was afraid to take it. She thought it best to wait until after school. But, she challenged herself, what if after school was too late? She turned back and made her way under the bleachers for the second time that day.

She dug her phone out of her pocket and took her chances. She sent Quinn a text message: I know you are in love with Rachel.

Sighing, Santana hoped Quinn would take the bait. Two minutes after sending the text, Santana's phone rang.


	7. 7 Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

**AN: As always, thanks for reading. And I appreciate any reviews. Title of this chapter comes from a Fleetwood Mac song. There is also a brief AN at the end of this chapter.**

"Of course you know I'm in love with Rachel, you fucking bitch!"

Santana pushed the phone away from her ear to better block out the sound of Quinn's shrieking voice. Some greeting! Santana seriously considered hanging up, but thought better of it. She'd been in Quinn's position before: Eager to strike out at any moving target so as to avoid the reality of her feelings. But how could Quinn possibly know that Santana was aware of the girl's feelings for Rachel?

"Are Rachel and Kurt with you? Are you happy with yourselves? Did you drag Brittany into this, too?"

Santana frowned. What in the holy fuck was Quinn talking about? And the only place Santana dragged Brittany was into her bed.

"How much fun are you having right now? I'm surprised you were able to stop laughing long enough to call me. This whole thing was beneath even you, Santana."

Seeking to shut down Quinn's momentum, Santana grasped at the very first idea that entered her mind. She screamed into the phone. No words left Santana's mouth; just a high-pitched yelp cultivated from years of yelling out from the sidelines at football games. She figured it would buy her some time and shock Quinn into silence. It worked a little too well. Quinn hung up on her.

"Fuck me!" Santana shouted, still unable to lower her voice. She quickly dialed Quinn's number again. She was actually surprised when Quinn picked up, but Santana had lost whatever slim advantage she might've gained after screaming at Quinn. She was about to speak when Quinn cut her off.

"I thought we were friends, Santana! And you don't even like Rachel!" It sounded to Santana like Quinn was crying, but she couldn't be certain.

Santana dropped her voice an octave and used the tone she usually only reserved for Brittany. "Quinn, I'm not following your logic right now. I'm not exactly friends with Rachel, but I don't hate her. And as for you, Fabray, I am your friend, and that is why I texted you and called you and allowed you to call me a fucking bitch."

"Tell me you weren't plotting with Rachel, Santana, just tell me that."

"Plotting with Berry to do what, exactly? Honestly, Quinn, I barely speak to Rachel! I saw her last night in the park, she ran from me, and today I tried to figure out why. And I learned an interesting fact about you from Rachel. Apparently, you like to push girls around."

Santana knew she might be dangerously close to having Quinn hang up on her again. So, before she could even catch her breath, she continued, "You need to talk to me, Quinn. I'm not quite sure what is going on in that bat-shit crazy mind of yours, but I think I can help you."

Quinn laughed. "Help me with what? Rachel?"

"Well, yeah, actually. I seriously don't understand your attraction to her, but whatever." Santana waved her hand dismissively in the air. "If she's the one that makes you see rainbows and unicorns and all that shit, I can get on board."

There was silence on the other end of the line. Santana was beginning to wonder if it was the word rainbows or the word unicorns that had made Quinn hang up on her this time. Quinn finally spoke.

"Rachel doesn't want me. And I'm sick of being her punching bag."

Santana had to bite back the comment that sprung immediately to mind: Seems like Rachel was your punching bag, Quinn.

Instead, Santana said something she was certain Brittany would be proud to hear. "Quinn, you love Rachel. You need to try for her. Really try for her, or you are going to lose her." Santana wasn't sure she should mention Finn just yet.

"Oh believe me, I've tried for her. I can't do it anymore, especially not now. Not after last night."

Santana was certain that it was simply embarrassment keeping Quinn from coming to her senses. The girl must be pretty upset with herself for hurting Rachel. Santana had stayed away from Brittany for days after their "I love you" conversation, and there'd been no physical violence on their end. But in that time Santana had lost Brittany to Artie. Quinn was on the verge of making the same mistake and she didn't even know it!

"You can work through it with her. Don't you think you'll regret it if you don't try?"

"Why do you care so much? If this isn't some type of scheme between you guys, why are you even bothering right now? It's not like we're close anymore."

She wasn't sure why Quinn was so hung up on this weird conspiracy theory. Would she next accuse Santana of somehow being involved in the JFK assassination?

Santana looked back toward McKinley: The place that made her so afraid. And the place that made her so happy because that was where she'd fallen in love with Brittany. She thought about how miserable she'd been without Brittany. Thought about what might've happened to her if they hadn't found their way back to each other. Was she willing to let Quinn go through that?

Quinn repeated her question: "Answer me, Santana, or I'm hanging up. And don't even bother calling me back."

She weighed her options. She could come back with some quip about how she didn't really care at all. Quinn could do whatever the hell she wanted. Fuck you, Fabray.

She could have said any of those things. Instead, she took a steadying breath and told the truth.

"I care because I'm in love with Brittany. I was mean to her before I finally wised up…and you are doing the same thing with Rachel." Santana closed her eyes and waited for Quinn's verdict.

"Santana, I've known for years that you're in love with Brittany."

She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and laughed. "Well, I wish you would've clued me in. Might have saved me some trouble."

"I didn't know you required any assistance." Was Quinn bantering with her now? If so, she might be able to convince Quinn to talk to Rachel. At least Quinn was no longer rattling on about absurd plots against her that didn't even exist.

Santana decided to take another risk. "Oh, I'm perfectly capable of handling Brittany. Can't say the same about you when it comes to Rachel."

"I'm really not in the mood for your snark."

"What are you in the mood for? Wallowing in your mistakes? Pissing off the girl you love?"

"Being in love with her changes nothing. She's already fucked me over too many times."

"Uh…pretty sure it was you that had the major meltdown, not Rachel."

"Whatever, Santana. It…is…over."

"But it doesn't have to be! Talk to her!" Santana felt like punching a wall. Rachel and Quinn were just too perfect for each other; both too stubborn to give an inch. And it was making Santana excruciatingly tired. She'd had to deal with the emotional baggage of both girls that morning and she usually spoke only two or three words to them per day, if even that! She was rapidly reaching her breaking point and so she made a decision she knew wouldn't make Brittany proud of her. Not at all.

"Listen carefully to me, Fabray. Kurt convinced Rachel to sleep with Finn to get over you. You know Finn still has the hots for Rachel, so he'll totally be all up in that." So what if Santana had embellished the truth? She'd sort it out later.

Quinn practically growled, "If he so much as touches her, I'll tear off his nuts with my teeth."

"Gag me! Too. Much. Information. Howz about you get your sweet ass to the Lima Bean and we can come up with a plan together?"

"Can't. I'm not even in Lima."

"Then where the fuck are you?"

"On my way to Dayton. I was planning on spending the weekend with my cousin. I just needed…away."

"I think it best you change your plans and come back."

"I can't talk to her today, Santana. It'll wreck me."

"This from the girl who just threatened to rip off Finn's balls. Well, you certainly weren't planning on using them to grow a pair of your own. Man up, Quinn. Turn yourself around and meet up with me somewhere. Either that or I'll have no excuse for blowing off school. And I really need out of here today."

She could almost hear the gears turning in Quinn's mind. The static on the other end of the line grew heavier. Was Quinn not going to say anything else at all? Santana feared her efforts were in vain. At least she'd be able to tell Brittany that she came out…to one person. Still, that had to count for something. Santana was calculating how many brownie points she might earn with Brittany when Quinn's voice forced her back to reality.

"All right." There was no mistaking the fear and resignation in Quinn's voice. "I'll talk to Rachel, but not until later. I need time to think. And you need to go back to class. Coach will never let you hear the end of it if she finds out you skipped out on classes today." And with that, Quinn hung up on Santana.

Santana grinned. Quinn Fabray always had to have the last word. But she was too drained to care at this point. She made her way sluggishly back to McKinley and hoped she could convince Brittany to give her a massage later that day. She sure as hell deserved one.

(Break)

Quinn made a decision almost as soon as she ended her call with Santana. And her decision was to go into her conversation with Rachel with no clear plan. No agenda. No prepared speech. She was going to wing it. If Quinn thought too long about what she might say to Rachel, she'd end up talking herself out of even approaching her. The only thing she clung to was that Rachel loved her once, and Quinn believed that it was possible for Rachel to love her again. And knowing that Finn was soon coming back into the picture only meant that Quinn was going to have to talk to Rachel soon. Maybe that night, even. Who knows how long before Rachel followed through on her plan to sleep with Finn? Tonight might be Quinn's last chance. And did it mean that Rachel still cared for her – if even just a little – if she wanted to have sex with Finn to get back at her?

Quinn stopped herself. She was overthinking, again. She was just going to drive home, take a nap, follow that up with a shower, and go over to Rachel's house in the evening. With her non-plan of a plan in place, Quinn turned her car around and headed back to Lima.

(Break)

Kurt thought he must somehow be related to Cupid himself. He first approached Finn at lunch and convinced his step-brother to ask Rachel on a date. He then convinced Rachel to accept Finn's offer by the end of the school day. Rachel and Finn were set to go out the following evening.

"Are you sure you're doing the right thing?" Blaine looked at his boyfriend with a bemused smile.

"Of course I am! You know how Finn goes on and on about Rachel. This is perfect!"

"Yeah, but does Rachel go on and on about Finn? I don't know her very well, but she doesn't seem all that in to him. And, she's not gonna be over Quinn so quickly."

"This will help her get over Quinn! And it will make Finn happy. It's a win-win!"

Kurt was oblivious to the worry hidden beneath Blaine's smile. He was already planning out possible outfits for Finn to wear on his date with Rachel. Nothing too flashy; that might scare her off. Nothing too simple; she might think he wasn't trying hard enough. Kurt couldn't wait to get home that afternoon and sort through Finn's wardrobe.

(Break)

Quinn circled Rachel's block at least a dozen times. She managed to watch the sunset over Lima as she retraced her route again and again. She knew Rachel's fathers weren't home since neither of their cars were in the driveway, but she was having trouble gathering her courage. She was looking for a way out of this situation. But then she thought of Finn. And Rachel with Finn. She made one last loop through the neighborhood and pulled into Rachel's driveway.

She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans before knocking on the door. She very nearly turned and ran when the door opened and Quinn came face to face with a Berry she wasn't expecting to see.

(Break)

Hiram's day had been nothing short of awful. His car broke down on the way to work and he'd waited hours for a tow truck. The mechanic just made things worse by informing Hiram that they'd have to order a part for his vehicle. When he finally got to work, he spilled coffee on his favorite tie: The one with tiny musical notes on it that Rachel had given him for Father's Day when she was ten. It was the first gift she'd ever picked out by herself. He had to bum a ride home from work because Leroy was pulling an all-nighter at his accounting firm. At least Hiram was able to go home fairly early. An afternoon of silence would be good for him.

All of that changed when Hiram walked into Rachel's room in search of her Funny Girl DVD. A piece of glass stuck painfully into his foot. Hiram howled out in pain and hopped around his daughter's room. He stared down at his foot and back up at Rachel's mirror. It was broken. Scratch that. It was shattered. Just what in the name of Moses had happened in here?

Hiram tried to control his emotions as he cleaned up the mess in his daughter's room. He glanced at her desk clock. She'd be home from school soon. There wasn't any need to panic. No need to call Leroy and beg him to come home. Rachel would have a good explanation.

Rachel was barely able to walk through the door after school before Hiram let loose with a barrage of questions.

"Rachel, why was there glass all over your bedroom floor? What happened to your mirror? Why didn't you tell me about this over breakfast?"

It was clear Rachel was trying to come up with an excuse – a deception, he sensed it! – because she took too long to answer.

"It's really nothing, Daddy." Rachel shrugged nonchalantly. Hiram wasn't buying it.

He knew he was overprotective when it came to Rachel. But he also allowed her a great deal of freedom. Why was she holding back from him now? He'd made it abundantly clear that she could trust him. He'd not pestered her once about her relationship – was it a relationship? – with Quinn Fabray. And he happened to know that Rachel was spending many an evening with one Quinn Fabray.

A thought sprung up and took root in Hiram's mind. He glanced at his daughter.

"Does this have anything to do with Quinn?"

Hiram could tell by the way Rachel squared her shoulders and averted her gaze from his own that she was about to lie to him.

"Rachel, be careful before you speak to me. Because I think you are getting ready to lie to your Daddy."

Rachel burst into tears. "Yes, okay, yes! It does have to with Quinn. I told her I loved her and she got mad at me. She broke my mirror…and…and left me. Are you happy now? Now that you know the truth?" Rachel ran up to her room and Hiram decided to let her be for the moment. This was one situation he wasn't about to face without Leroy with him.

But he took some time to think about Quinn. He remembered that he'd felt bad for her after his last – his only! - conversation with Rachel about the girl. He realized now that he'd underestimated Rachel's feelings for Quinn. He had rather foolishly assumed from Rachel's apparent detachment at the time of their talk that Rachel wasn't fully invested in Quinn. But he had been wrong. And he now mainly just felt sorry for himself.

A knock on the front door pulled Hiram from his thoughts. He opened the door to find Quinn Fabray staring wide-eyed up at him. He quickly shut the door and stepped onto the porch. Quinn took two steps back.

"You've got a lot of nerve, little girl. Did you honestly think you could breeze right back into my home after what you did to Rachel?"

Quinn stared hard at the top of Hiram's head. He found that telling; the fact that Quinn wouldn't meet his eyes.

"You need to turn around, get back in your car, and go home. You aren't welcome here."

He didn't wait for Quinn to say anything before slamming the door in her face.

Rachel yelled down to ask who had been at the door. Hiram told her it was just some neighborhood kid trying to sell magazine subscriptions. He wasn't sure how he felt about lying to his daughter, but that was for him to worry about later. Not too much time passed before Rachel came back downstairs looking calm and collected. Hiram knew then that lying to Rachel had been the right move. Seeing Quinn would've only upset her all over again.

"If it's okay with you, Daddy, I'm going over to Finn's house. I think it'll make me feel better to be around him right now."

Hiram thought that was an excellent idea. He'd always liked Finn Hudson. The boy might not be Jewish, but he wasn't super-Christian, either. And he could always convert! He gave Rachel his blessing, kissed her on the check, promised her things would look up soon, and waved at her as she walked out the door.

**AN2: So…do you think Rachel is really going over to Finn's house? I already know the answer, but I could be swayed to change my mind (maybe).**


	8. 8 Always

**AN: Thanks again for reading. I'll admit that I'm going to disappoint the lot of you right out of the gates. **

Santana was painfully aware of how quickly news travelled at McKinley. She was hoping to find Quinn – if Quinn was even at school – before word of Rachel and Finn reached her. She scolded herself for telling Quinn that Rachel planned on sleeping with Finn. She should've known it would bite her in the ass! But how was she to guess that Rachel would actually go over to Finn's that very same night? Hadn't Quinn gone to talk to Rachel?

She pictured Quinn lying on her cousin's couch in Dayton, watching TV and just hanging out. Yep, Santana thought, Quinn had chickened out. She'd never even driven back to Lima! In the distance she heard Kurt's high-pitched squeal of excitement. It was he who had rather proudly and smugly told Santana that Finn and Rachel – the dynamic duo, as he referred to them – were back together. Looking past Kurt, she saw Rachel and Finn walking down the hallway. They were holding hands.

"I cannot even with this," Santana mumbled to herself. Where the fuck was Quinn? She jogged out to the parking lot to retrieve her phone. There were no missed calls. No texts. Scanning the parking lot for Quinn's car, Santana made the split-second decision to give it one last try. For the sake of Brittany, who had cried for what seemed like hours the night before when Santana told her about Quinn and Rachel.

Santana made her way back under the bleachers. She was beginning to appreciate why Rachel had brought them here the day before. Being behind the bleachers was just far enough away from McKinley that you could almost – almost – imagine yourself off school grounds. Santana stopped short when she saw Quinn sitting, Indian-style, on the ground.

Santana proceeded with caution. "Hey there, Quinn, how are you?" Santana cringed. What kind of line was that?

Quinn looked up and straight through Santana. Something was off about her eyes, Santana thought.

"How much do you know?"

"Pretty much all of it." There was something off about the pattern of Quinn's speech, too. "I went to Rachel's last night…but her father wouldn't let me see her." Quinn paused. Santana struggled to figure out why Quinn was slurring her words. She figured it was best not to interrupt Quinn.

"And I saw Rachel this morning…but she wouldn't talk to me." Almost as an afterthought, Quinn said, "Finn was there."

"Quinn, I don't think they slept together. I was only trying to get you to…"

Quinn suddenly stood up and walked over to Santana. Quinn's movements caused the words to dry out in her mouth. Quinn was wobbling and trying to steady herself.

"Here," Quinn said. She thrust a crumpled sheet of paper into Santana's hand. "Was gonna give this to Rachel." Quinn leaned heavily against Santana, who quickly wrapped a firm hand around Quinn's waist.

"Are you drunk, Quinn?" Santana couldn't hide her bewilderment any longer.

"Nope. Just took a couple of my Mom's Xanax. Didn't think I could talk to Rachel otherwise. Too scared."

Santana rolled her eyes but made sure Quinn couldn't see her. What a mess Quinn was making for her! She made a mental note to snag a couple of her own mother's Xanax – that shit must be hardcore – and led Quinn toward the parking lot.

"Did you drive today?"

"Took the bus."

Santana almost laughed. She just could not imagine Quinn Fabray riding the school bus to McKinley. Yep, Xanax must be hardcore, for sure. "You honestly took the bus?"

"Yes, Santana, I took the fucking bus! You know, the yellow one."

"I know what color they are, Quinn!" Santana stopped herself. She was becoming exasperated, but she didn't want Quinn to run away – or wobble away, in her case – so she calmed her voice.

"I'm going to drive you home. You are going back to bed and sleeping this off. I'll come by your house this afternoon and we'll talk about Rachel and…" She hesitated to say Finn's name. She just let her sentence hang unfinished in the air. At any rate, Quinn was in no condition to face Rachel or Finn or anyone, for that matter.

Quinn was remarkably compliant. She put up no fuss when Santana laid her gently down in the backseat of her car. She didn't say anything during the drive to Quinn's house. She passively allowed Santana to lead her to her room. Santana was starting to think she was going to get out of this unscathed.

"Don't come back this afternoon." Quinn's voice was muffled by the pillow she'd clutched over her face. "I don't wanna talk about Rachel."

Santana knew Quinn was lying, but this was not the moment to call bullshit. She was damn sure coming back to Quinn's that afternoon. If Quinn wouldn't let her inside, Santana knew where the Fabrays kept their spare key. She left Quinn's room without so much as a goodbye. She thought that Quinn might've already been asleep anyway.

On her way back to her car, Santana shoved her hands into her pockets. There she found the note that she'd forgotten Quinn had clumsily pushed into her hand while the two girls were still under the bleachers. She smoothed out the note and furrowed her brow. There were two sentences written on the paper in what was undeniably Quinn's flowing, impeccable cursive. Did Quinn write this herself? Santana wasn't much for mushy sentiments, but this made her heart break a little. She knew it was time to bring out the last weapon in her arsenal. She happened to know it was also the best weapon in her arsenal: Brittany.

(Break)

Rachel was never so glad that a school day was almost over. She desperately wanted to go home and sort through everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours. And she was still unsure of herself when it came to Quinn. Maybe she should've talked to her. But Quinn had looked like she didn't care one way or the other and she put up no fight when Rachel sent her away. Surely that was all the evidence Rachel needed. Plus, she had Finn to think about now.

Rachel looked up and was startled to see Brittany staring down at her with a beatific smile on her face.

"Brittany, please try not to sneak up on me. If you needed to speak with me, you should have announced your presence."

"You look very pretty today, Rachel."

Rachel glanced past Brittany for any sign of Santana. She didn't see the girl. She turned her attention back to Brittany. She was about to thank the girl for the compliment, even though it was totally random – but what wasn't when it came to Brittany? – when the blonde reached down and kissed Rachel on the cheek. Rachel gasped and Brittany took advantage of the moment to slip a note into her hand.

Brittany skipped off down the hallway. Rachel stood frozen for a moment. She finally turned her attention to the note. She expected to be met with Brittany's nearly illegible handwriting – maybe even a drawing in crayon – and was shocked for the second time in so many minutes by what was actually written on the note. In Quinn's signature cursive were the opening stanzas of a poem:

"I am not jealous  
>Of what came before me."<p>

Rachel read those lines over and over until the words blurred together on the page. She heard Finn call out to her and she quickly crumpled up the note. She was intent on throwing it away. Finn jogged over to her and favored her with his sweetest smile. Rachel tried her best to return the gesture. He immediately started in on some story about football as she searched the hallway for a trash can. Finn was becoming ever more animated and Rachel watched as he motioned wildly with his hands. She wasn't following the conversation at all. Finn was leading them out of the building. They passed a trash can, but for reasons Rachel didn't care to analyze, she shoved the note inside her book bag instead.

(Break)

Santana had to use the spare key after all. Quinn wouldn't even acknowledge she was there. Santana had tried to give Quinn the easy way out: She knocked on the front door three times before using the key. She called out to Quinn as soon as she entered the foyer. No answer. She glanced over at Brittany, who was biting her nails and glancing nervously around the entranceway. Santana grabbed her girlfriend's hand and made her way to Quinn's room.

She was startled to find Quinn still asleep. She was quickly deciding that Xanax was clearly going to be her drug of choice should she and Brittany ever break up.

"Is she alive?" Brittany whispered.

Santana ignored her and reached over to shake Quinn awake. "Wake up, sleeping beauty, your princes are here."

Quinn blinked up at Santana and closed her eyes again.

"Seriously, Quinn, wake the fuck up. Britts and I didn't come here to watch you drool in your sleep."

"Santana, be nice," Brittany pleaded.

Quinn opened her eyes and squinted over at Brittany. Brittany smiled happily at Quinn, and before Santana could blink, her girlfriend had launched herself onto the bed and snuggled up against Quinn.

"We're gonna get Rachel for you, Quinn!" Santana wished she had the same confidence that Brittany seemed to have about everything. Maybe then she wouldn't hate herself so much for wanting to keep everyone at McKinley out of her relationship. Because, well, she wouldn't give a fuck what anyone thought. But life wasn't that simple. And there weren't enough people like Brittany in the world.

Quinn sat up but didn't exactly extract herself from Brittany. Then again, Brittany was holding on pretty tightly.

"Don't even start with us about how you don't want Rachel, you never really wanted Rachel, you actually hate Rachel," Santana paused to catch her breath. She was determined to get through this monologue without any interruption from Quinn.

But it was Brittany who spoke next. "I gave her your note."

Fuck all the fucks, Santana thought. It was way too early in the conversation to tell Quinn that bit of information. Brittany was going off script.

But Quinn took the news surprisingly well. "Thank you, Brittany, but taken out of context, the note pretty much means nothing."

"It meant something to Rachel!" Brittany protested.

"What were you planning with that whole note business, anyway?" Santana questioned. "Were you writing her a love poem or something?"

Quinn looked at Santana like she was stupid. Santana was pretty sure that it was only the presence of Brittany that made her stay quiet and endure Quinn's gaze.

"I didn't write it. But, yeah, it's part of a poem. And I did have a plan."

Brittany sat up and clapped. "Oh, you're trying to woo Rachel!"

Santana felt a twinge of jealously settle at the pit of her stomach. She was going to have to make more of an effort at wooing – she honestly hated that word – Brittany. She'd do just about anything to cause the blonde this much excitement.

Santana sat down across from the two girls. "Okay, what was your plan?"

"Doesn't matter now."

"Kinda does."

"Nope."

Santana wasn't sure how long they would've gone on that way. She was relieved when Brittany started crying. She'd been bargaining on this happening if things hadn't gone their way. Brittany wasn't the best weapon in Santana's arsenal for nothing.

"I just want Quinn and Rachel to be happy!" Santana was pleased with her girlfriend's performance. She'd counted on the tears but the high-pitched wail was an added bonus.

"Please just let us help you, Quinn!" Brittany started crying even harder. Santana had never been more pleased with her girlfriend in her entire life.

Quinn looked over at Santana. Santana shrugged and made no effort to calm Brittany. This was all on Quinn now.

"Okay, Brittany, calm down." Quinn ran her hands up and down Brittany's back in an effort to soothe the girl. Santana kept a sharp eye on Quinn to make sure she didn't cop a feel of Brittany's ass.

"I'll tell you what I was going to do…but I'm not going to do it now…"

"Yes you are!" Brittany started to cry again. Quinn rolled her eyes and Santana glared at her.

"You can argue all you want, but once you tell us your plan, it's out of your hands." Santana waited for Quinn to give in or Brittany to cry harder.

Quinn laughed. "How can you carry out my plan if I don't help you?"

Santana was ready for that question. "Easy. We started this without you. It was Brittany that gave Rachel your note. You couldn't even talk to her. Plus, Rachel is willing to talk to us. You? Not so much."

She and Brittany had talked about this on the way to Quinn's house. Well, she'd done most of the talking but Brittany seemed to agree with her on all the major points. They both knew Rachel was too stubborn – and too overly dramatic – to allow Quinn much of an opportunity to talk to her in the foreseeable future. Rachel was also incredibly impulsive. She had a lot in common with Santana in that regard. Both girls acted out and dealt with the consequences later. Santana had run from Brittany back to Puck and Rachel was doing the same thing with Finn. It was only later – almost too late – that Santana recognized her mistake.

And Quinn was too hung up on her own self-doubt to see beyond the here and now. Santana knew that Quinn believed she'd lost Rachel for good, so why keep trying? Santana's own insecurities had almost cost her Brittany. She'd reacted just like Quinn: Why bother? She was finding it increasingly difficult to determine if she was the Quinn or the Rachel in this scenario. She figured it was lucky for Quinn that Santana could find pieces of herself in both girls.

Santana looked at Quinn and the blonde muttered, "It might be too late. I…you don't know what I did to her…"

"Yeah, we do." Santana countered. Quinn started to cry, which made Brittany start up again.

Santana was running out of patience. She tried to calm herself by running her fingers through her hair and mentally going through her list of Spanish curse words in search of just the perfect one…

Quinn collapsed onto the bed, taking Brittany with her. Both girls were crying so hard now that Santana couldn't tell the difference between them. That! Was! It!

"Enough!" Santana grabbed both girls by the shirt and heaved them forward. She crashed their faces close to hers and narrowed her eyes. "Tell us your plan, Quinn. And me and Britts are gonna do you a favor and help your sorry ass. Okay? Stop fucking around." Santana looked over at Quinn's clock, never taking her hands off either girl. "Rachel and Finn are going out tonight. And you'd better tell us all about your dashing little plan so we can hurry this dog and pony show along."

She pushed both girls gently back onto the bed, sat between them, and crossed her arms over her chest. She and Brittany stared at Quinn. Santana watched as Quinn dried her eyes, hesitated, and finally began to speak.

(Break)

Rachel was having trouble concentrating at dinner. She was becoming more and more convinced that going over to Finn's house last night had been a mistake. They'd only talked. In fact, they spent most of their time in the living room with Kurt and Blaine. And when they were alone for a short time that night, Rachel found herself quickly forming a habit. A habit she was now indulging in while watching Finn talk with his mouth full. Quinn would never do that, she thought, trying to hide her disgust. She mentally berated herself. She was doing it again. Just like last night. And all day long. She was comparing Finn to Quinn and the results weren't looking good for Finn. Still, he loved her. He was trying. He'd never break her mirror. Or her heart.

The waiter came over to their table and cleared his throat. "May I interest you in a dessert?"

Rachel frowned up at the boy. Didn't he go to McKinley? "Not at the moment. As you might have noticed, we are not even half way done with our main course. Perhaps you could ask us again later?" She favored the boy with her best show-business smile.

The waiter looked uncomfortable. But he smiled back at Rachel. Glancing quickly around the restaurant, he dropped a piece of paper onto Rachel's side of the table. "In case anything catches your eye, I'll just leave this here."

Rachel's heart rate picked up. She could see the familiar swirls of Quinn's writing through the outline of the paper. She snatched up the note, excused herself to the restroom, and dashed into a stall. She opened the note and read:

"Come with a man  
>on your shoulders,<br>come with a hundred men in your hair,  
>come with a thousand men between your breasts and your feet,<br>come like a river  
>full of drowned men<br>which flows down to the wild sea,  
>to the eternal surf, to Time!"<p>

(Break)

The waiter made his way to the back of the restaurant. He was on his guard, but he still flinched when Santana Lopez jumped out of the shadows.

"Nicely done, Harrison." Santana pounded him on the back.

"That's a whole month you won't have to worry about being slushied!" He tried to look as pleased with himself as Santana seemed to be with herself.

"Now, one more thing before I go. Pack me up a dozen breadsticks."

He hurried away to fulfill Santana's request.

(Break)

Rachel was determined to throw this note away. But in the end she stuffed it into her pocket and made her way back to Finn. She rationalized that it would be rude to discard the note in such a place as a public restroom. She'd throw the note away when she got home…if she got around to it.

Finn tried to kiss her good night. She begged off; it was too soon. She made it clear she didn't want to lead him on, but maybe that's all she was doing. She wanted to concentrate only on how safe Finn could make her feel. She never doubted herself with him. There was no conflict or lack of trust. Finn made things easy, and Rachel felt she had to struggle for everything else in life: Solos in Glee club, memberships in school clubs…everything! If Finn could be that one, easy thing in her life, why not let him?

But it was clear that Santana and Brittany had other ideas. Santana cornered Rachel after temple on Saturday. Her Dad and Daddy were talking to the Rabbi when Santana seemed to appear out of nowhere like the second coming. Rachel tried to dodge past Santana, but the other girl simply pulled down Rachel's shirt and unceremoniously pushed a piece of paper inside Rachel's bra. Santana gave her that signature Lopez smirk and disappeared into the crowd. Her fathers still preoccupied with the Rabbi, Rachel sat on the steps of her temple and read the note:

"Bring them all  
>to where I am waiting for you;<br>we shall always be alone…"

Rachel reasoned that she couldn't throw this one away because her Dad and Daddy were standing by the only trash can she could see. And she didn't want her fathers asking her any unnecessary questions. Best if she waited until she got home.

Finn texted Rachel twice on Saturday. Each time she ignored him. Each time she re-read the notes from Quinn.

She was out for her Sunday run when Brittany suddenly ran up beside her. Had she and Santana planted some type of GPS device on her? Brittany smiled over at Rachel before thrusting a note into her hand as if she were handing off the baton in a relay race. She sprinted away from Rachel, who slowed down to catch her breath. She unfolded the note and read:

"We shall always be you and I  
>alone on earth,<br>to start our life!"

Rachel had no choice but to take this note home with her. There were no trash cans on her route home.

Finn texted Rachel once on Sunday. She felt bad for ignoring him yet again. She'd make it up to him. She rolled over on her bed and re-read the notes from Quinn.

(Break)

Santana was confident today was the day she was going to get her life back. Today, Rachel and Quinn would have their big, happy, gay, make-up, we love each other, let's go have sex moment. And Santana couldn't wait. She'd spent most of her weekend with Quinn. And there was something really, really wrong with that picture.

She'd actually found Quinn's plan sweet. She'd underestimated the girl. Clearly she should have guessed that Quinn would know how to navigate the landscape that was Rachel Berry's moods. Quinn had known that Rachel might turn her away if Quinn tried to talk to her. Quinn had known that Rachel was scared and needed to be gently inched along – not pushed – into actually having a conversation. But that hadn't meant Quinn couldn't reach out to Rachel. The poem kept the lines of communication open between the two girls. It kept Quinn in Rachel's mind.

Quinn had planned on leaving the notes in Rachel's locker day by day, but that would require waiting until Monday. Santana argued that they'd just be giving Finn an unfair advantage. She and Brittany would deliver the notes to Rachel over the weekend. Tracking Rachel down was easy. The girl was nothing if not predictable. Temple on Saturday morning, afternoon dance class, evening piano lesson. Early morning run on Sunday, family time in the afternoon, finish her homework that night. Santana was a little revolted that she knew so much about Rachel's life.

Now, she crossed the halls of McKinley with one final note from Quinn: Meet me.

She didn't give Rachel a chance to protest before slapping her palm against the other girl's hand. She allowed their fingers to linger together for a few seconds; just long enough to transfer the note. It looked as if Santana and Rachel had simply exchanged an awkward high five.

Santana looked back over her shoulder as Rachel opened the note. She met up with Brittany at the end of the hallway and both girls watched for Rachel's reaction. Santana was stunned when Rachel balled up the note and threw it away.

**AN2: The poem in this chapter is "Always" by Pablo Neruda. Yeah…so…many of you probably don't like me very much right now. Thoughts?**


	9. 9 Could it be this Easy?

When Quinn saw Santana and Brittany make their way under the bleachers, she knew her plan hadn't worked. She turned from them and swiftly bent down to collect her blanket and her bag. She bit down hard on her tongue and shut her eyes tightly. She was determined that they not see her break down. That could wait until she got home…and that would have to wait until after school. Quinn couldn't afford to keep skipping her classes. She might be a Lima Loser, but she still needed at least a high school degree.

She focused on the sound of Brittany and Santana's voices. They'd tried so hard to help her. She heard Brittany gasp and Quinn cringed. She wasn't at all prepared to handle another one of Brittany's crying attacks. The idea of spending eight hours trapped inside the same building as Rachel and Finn was already causing bile to rise up in the back of her throat. Brittany's tears would push her dangerously close to a breakdown.

She'd hold it together. Quinn had been hiding, or faking, her emotions for years. She could certainly do it for one more day. She owed it to Santana and Brittany. And maybe even to Rachel. No sense in upsetting Rachel even more by walking around McKinley wailing and bemoaning her loss. Or watching Brittany do it for her.

Quinn turned to greet Santana and Brittany, forcing herself to smile, when she almost collided with Rachel Berry.

"Rachel, what are you doing here?"

"You asked me to meet you." Rachel quirked her lips up in what could either pass for a smile or a smirk.

"But…Santana and Brittany…?" Quinn glanced past Rachel and could just make out the two girls in question hastily retreating back to McKinley.

"Do you need witnesses?" There was that smirking smile again.

Quinn wasn't sure what to make of Rachel. She'd gone from refusing to talk to Quinn to flirting – was she flirting? – with her. Had she missed a step? Quinn was too puzzled to speak. She'd anticipated any number of possible reactions from Rachel: Anger, trepidation, exasperation…but flirting? Could it be this easy?

That smirk of a smile still gracing her face, Rachel spoke, "You asked me to meet you. I'm meeting you. I expected more from you than just a slack jaw and wide eyes." Rachel gazed wickedly up at Quinn. "Why so quiet, Quinn? You brought me here. Do something about it."

Challenge accepted. Quinn reached forward and pulled Rachel into a kiss that felt like something between a punishment and redemption. Rachel initially leaned into Quinn, but pushed her away right when Quinn was about to slip her tongue inside Rachel's mouth.

"Talk, Quinn. I came here to talk," Rachel breathed out. "And, anyway, I'm technically with Finn now."

Quinn flinched at the sound of his name. "He's your problem, not mine." She was already getting defensive. But why must Rachel be so quick to mention him? If Rachel wanted Finn, why was she kissing Quinn?

"No, the way I see it, he's _our _problem." Rachel scolded.

Quinn frowned and met Rachel's eyes with her own. She locked her gaze with Rachel's and held on tight. It was always, always Finn. And it was always, always Rachel. Quinn cocked her head to the side and let her eyes travel the length of Rachel's body. Once. Twice. Three times for luck.

She wasn't interested in sharing Rachel with Finn. Or talking to her about Finn. She was going to take back what was hers. And she wasn't going to do it with words. Not right now, anyway. It looked as if Quinn Fabray was going to miss at least some of her classes after all.

She smiled serenely at Rachel and motioned for the girl to join her further back under the bleachers. Once there Quinn grabbed the blanket and smoothed it out over the ground. Rachel sat down. Quinn took off her pants. Rachel stood up.

"Quinn! What on earth are you doing?"

Quinn bent lower and angled her arms around Rachel's knees. She scooted Rachel down until the brunette was sitting in her lap. Quinn had inadvertently caused Rachel's breath to hitch and catch in the back of her throat. She took advantage of Rachel's inability to speak by swiping her tongue against Rachel's neck. Rachel moaned and wrapped her legs tighter around Quinn's waist. Could it be this easy?

Quinn would stop if Rachel asked. Until then, she was going for broke. She wrapped one arm around Rachel's back and used her other hand to gently pull at Rachel's hair.

"Harder." Rachel hissed.

Quinn fisted Rachel's hair and yanked. The motion caused Rachel's skirt to ride up her legs and Quinn sighed as their centers brushed together. Pulling Rachel down by her hair, Quinn straddled the brunette and ground her hips into the girl. Rachel mirrored her motions.

Quinn felt the familiar burn in her stomach make its way to her core. It had only been a few days since they'd last done this, but it was a few days too many. She was close. She looked down at Rachel. The girl's eyes were nearly black. And it was she who was now the slack jawed one of the pair.

"More." Rachel begged.

Quinn lifted her hips long enough to remove her underwear. She roughly jerked Rachel upwards and pulled off Rachel's panties. For a moment they were suspended in the air. Rachel's pussy struck hard against her own and they slid back to the ground together. They had no trouble finding their rhythm. Rachel groaned and shook her head back and forth, causing her hair to fly out in waves. Quinn watched as Rachel fisted the blanket and jerked against the blonde. Each time their clits rubbed together, Rachel would groan. Quinn was close.

"Your mouth." Rachel whispered.

Quinn bent lower and forcefully plunged her tongue into Rachel's mouth. She licked the inside of Rachel's lower lip. She grazed her tongue lightly, playfully against Rachel's own. She tasted the coconut of Rachel's lip gloss.

"Now." Rachel commanded.

Quinn lifted her hips again and guided one finger inside Rachel. She shifted her weight onto Rachel's thigh and quickly picked up her pace.

"Two." Rachel demanded.

Quinn moaned at the request. She scissored her fingers inside Rachel and was met with the loveliest sound as Rachel whimpered at the contact. Quinn was close.

She rode Rachel's thigh as her fingers pushed heavily against Rachel's walls.

"Fuck! Fuck! Harder!" Rachel screamed.

Quinn shoved her fingers deeper into Rachel. She wasn't sure which of them came first, but their moans and shrieks filled the air at nearly the exact same moment. Quinn slowed her movement. Carefully, she slide her fingers from Rachel. She hesitated.

On a whim, she quickly thrust both fingers back inside the girl.

"Ahhhh!" Rachel breathed out.

Quinn angled her fingers upward; ever struggling to delve deeper and deeper inside the girl she loved.

Rachel clinched her eyes shut as her orgasm flooded through her. She shuddered beneath Quinn and the blonde could only gape in wonder at the beauty of the moment.

Once Rachel's breathing slowed, Quinn moved down the length of the girl's body and rested her head on Rachel's thigh. She closed her eyes as Rachel slowly ran her fingers through Quinn's hair.

"We should talk." Rachel's voice was low and even.

"Can it wait?" Quinn wanted to enjoy this time with Rachel. In silence. She relaxed back into Rachel's touch as Rachel continued her leisurely strokes through Quinn's hair.

"For now. After school."

Quinn understood that Rachel wasn't asking her permission. "After school, then."

The bell sounded; signaling the end of first period. Quinn sighed. This was the moment when Rachel was going to leave. There'd be just enough time for Rachel to make herself presentable before the start of second period. But Rachel surprised her. The brunette scooted down and leaned her forehead against Quinn's. She kissed Quinn tenderly on the lips.

They stayed that way for a while. Quinn would occasionally reach over and brush a lock of hair away from Rachel's face. Or Rachel would pull Quinn closer to her. Quinn would dance her fingertips across Rachel's back. Or Rachel would hum softly into Quinn's ear. They pulled away from each other when the bell rang out again.

"Let me go first." Rachel said. Quinn nodded.

"Meet me here after school? Three-thirty?" Rachel suddenly sounded hesitant. Quinn nodded again and smiled.

Rachel smiled back, gave an embarrassed little wave, and left. Quinn watched as Rachel walked toward the school. Honestly, she shouldn't find herself already missing Rachel. But she did.

Rachel turned abruptly and half-skipped and half-ran back to Quinn. She flung her arms over Quinn's shoulders and kissed her. The force behind Rachel's kiss caused Quinn to stumble backwards.

Rachel laughed and linked her hands behind Quinn's neck. "Steady now, Quinn." There was that smiling smirk again.

Quinn just smiled goofily back at Rachel. She wanted to twirl Rachel around and take her back under the bleachers. But, in the end, she let Rachel leave.

(Break)

Santana hated second period. Trigonometry bored her. Numbers bored her. Pretty much anything other than Brittany bored her. Well, this whole thing with Rachel and Quinn had been exciting in a weird sort of way. But she hoped that was over now. She hadn't seen either girl since Rachel had breezed past them that morning. Brittany had inhaled loudly when she saw Rachel. Santana had simply gripped her girlfriend's hand and swiftly led her away from the bleachers. Their work was done.

She took it as a good sign that she'd been unable to spot either girl in the hallway between periods. She refused to take it as anything else. Even if they were arguing, at least they were probably somewhere together.

Kurt nudged her. She scowled at him.

"Have you seen Rachel?" He mouthed.

Santana shook her head: No.

And here was another reason why Santana hated second period. Kurt Hummel sat right beside her in class.

Kurt scooted closer to Santana. She glowered at him.

"She should've met up with Finn after first period. He was looking for her."

"So?"

"So…you're sure you haven't seen her?"

"No, Kurt, I'm lying to you. I actually have her tucked away inside my purse." She turned from Kurt and gave the teacher her most winning smile when he glared in her direction.

"Have you seen Quinn?" Kurt whispered.

Santana was suddenly wary. She slowly turned to Kurt and tried to burrow a hole through him with her eyes. Kurt stared impassively back at her.

"Have you?"

"Listen, Hummel, I'm tired of playing where's Waldo with you. I haven't seen Rachel. And I haven't seen Quinn!"

She focused on the whiteboard at the front of the room. She heard Kurt grumble under his breath. She'd have to keep her eye on that boy. Maybe she wasn't out of this whole Rachel and Quinn mess just yet. She sighed and tried to concentrate on her work. She needed to catch up on her notes. She bent her head lower and scribbled furiously as the teacher droned on and on at the front of the room.

(Break)

Rachel tried a second time to get Brittany's attention. She'd just sat down in fourth period art class when Brittany took one look at her, let out a "humph" sound, and turned away. This was a reaction peculiar even for Brittany. The cheerleader was always friendly with her. Rachel rather enjoyed talking to Brittany during class.

She tapped Brittany on the shoulder. Brittany shrugged her off. She flipped her art pad over to a blank page and bent forward, using her arm to hide her face from Rachel's view.

Ten minutes into class and two crumpled attempts at a drawing later, Rachel threw down her charcoal pencil and looked over at Brittany. The blonde was making it a point to ignore her very existence. She'd gone so far as to move all of her supplies to the far end of the table, well out of Rachel's reach. They usually swapped with each other.

Rachel pushed her chair closer to Brittany's. "Tell me why you're mad at me and I'll try to fix it."

"You threw Quinn's note away." Brittany sounded like a child who'd just dropped her ice cream cone on the street.

"Yes. I felt it was necessary. I was symbolically throwing away our past mistakes. Metaphors are very important…" Rachel hesitated. Was she getting through to Brittany?

Brittany was still drawing large, swirling circles – bubbles, maybe? – as she listened to Rachel.

"Are you paying attention to me?"

"Metaphors are important. Got it. But what does a metaphor have to do with Quinn's note?"

"Nevermind. Why are you mad at me for that? I talked to her. You saw me."

"I keep everything Santana gives me," Brittany said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You should always keep everything Quinn gives you. When we weren't together, I'd always look at the stuff from San and it made me feel better." Brittany nodded, serenely, and asked to borrow Rachel's paintbrush.

Rachel handed her the brush and watched as Brittany happily colored in her circles with red paint. The words "when we weren't together" echoed in Rachel's head. Were she and Quinn back together? Had they ever really been together? She didn't feel like they were a couple in the sense that she and Finn had been a couple. Rachel jerked in her seat. Finn! She'd forgotten about Finn!

What a horrible mess she'd made! She couldn't bear to think of hurting Finn. He only wanted to love her! Rachel blinked, hard. She couldn't hurt him. She'd been rash and unfair to him. But she didn't intend on being cruel.

She reached in her bag for her phone and hastily began to type.

(Break)

Quinn made her way under the bleachers a little after three. She was glad for the time alone. She kind of liked missing Rachel now that she knew the brunette would be coming back. She dropped down onto her blanket and smiled up into the sun. Her fingers traced lazy circles – bubbles, maybe – in the air. She was lost in thoughts of Rachel.

She wasn't aware when three-thirty came and went. She was too busy daydreaming. She glanced at her watch and jumped up in surprise. It was nearly four! Where was Rachel? She looked about wildly but could see no sign of the brunette. She heard the random shouts of students. But Rachel's voice was not among them. She took out her phone. What if Rachel got held up? But surely she would've texted?

Quinn decided to wait. Rachel would show up. They'd agreed to meet.

(Break)

Santana bopped her head from side to side and snapped her chewing gum. She was really chugging away at this trig homework. She looked over at her clock. It was almost six. Hells yeah! At this rate she'd be at Brittany's by seven, at the latest. She snapped her gum again.

The doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" Her little brother went tearing down the hallway. She could hear him over the music blasting through her headphones. Santana rolled her eyes and reached for her calculator. She wasn't expecting any visitors.

She was concentrating so hard on her homework – plus, she really fucking loved this song! - that she failed to notice Quinn's arrival.

Startled by the thud of Quinn's body landing heavily on her bed, Santana whipped her head up and looked at Quinn. And she didn't like what she saw.

"Shit" was the only word that Santana could manage. She probably wasn't going to make it to Brittany's by seven.


	10. 10 When We Weren't Together

**AN: I appreciate everyone who is still reading this story. I also welcome any and all reviews. To those of you reviewing every chapter, I thank you very much. I always smile when I read your reviews. I am aiming to get one more chapter posted before I go out of town late next week for a conference. Until then…**

Quinn gave up on Rachel showing. It was four-fifteen. Rachel was punctual – it was a mark of professionalism, she'd said – and, anyway, she would've let her know if she was running late. She'd stood her up. It was that easy.

But Quinn couldn't seem to leave. She was back on the blanket again. She watched as the sun made its slow descent into dusk. What had she done wrong? She turned over onto her stomach and buried her face in the blanket to stifle a scream of frustration. What did Rachel want from her? She flipped around. It was becoming increasingly apparent that Rachel must not want anything from her at all. She sat up and flexed her fingers. Maybe they should've talked this morning. Quinn scolded herself for putting it off. She flopped back down on the blanket. This must be about Finn. He'd gotten to her. She rolled over onto her side. Or…Rachel had decided she wanted him instead of Quinn?

"Quinn!"

She jerked up and squinted her eyes against the sun. It was Rachel!

"Where the hell have you been?" Quinn wished she could keep the hurt and anger from seeping out through her words.

"I am so sorry, Quinn. I felt I needed to speak with Finn before seeing you. And…and the conversation took an unexpected turn to which I was less than prepared."

"And what kind of turn might that be?" She couldn't quite let go of her anger.

"Well, Kurt came up with the idea to have Finn serenade me." Rachel looked over at Quinn.

What was it about that stupid Glee club that had everybody thinking the only way they could truly express emotion was through song? It was ridiculous.

"Go on."

"And Kurt trapped me after class. Right after class, I swear! And Blaine blind-folded me!" Rachel paused. "Please stop looking at me like that, Quinn."

"I wasn't aware that looking at you was such a crime."

"I clearly meant _the way_ you are looking at me."

Quinn shut her eyes. She had an awful feeling about where this was headed. Something about the sheepish way Rachel kept darting her eyes across Quinn's face, never quite daring to make direct eye contact, had Quinn rattled.

"Go on."

"So, they led me to the auditorium. And Finn was there."

"Of course Finn was there!" Quinn snapped. "Isn't that the whole point of your story?" She knew she shouldn't interrupt Rachel. She should stop looking for a fight. But she had her defenses up. And she felt like it was for good reason. Rachel just hadn't revealed the reason…yet.

"Go on."

"All the boys from Glee were there…and even some of the football players! I couldn't leave. I couldn't humiliate him like that. Not in front of everyone!" Rachel was practically whining.

"Oh, but it was okay for you to humiliate me? Oh my God, Rachel, do you hear yourself?"

"Quinn…this was…this was, I don't know, different! No one but us knew we were supposed to meet. I wasn't trying to humiliate you. I would've hurt Finn if I'd left! Don't make this about you."

"But it is about me!" Quinn pounded her chest. Rachel flinched. "What if I'd left, Rachel, what then?"

"I would've found you." Rachel took a step toward Quinn.

"Don't!" The word came out harsher than Quinn intended.

Rachel paused and took a step away from Quinn. She looked down at her feet. "I agreed to see him tomorrow night."

Quinn's heart slammed in her chest.

"I can't just end it with him. I've got to…I can't…" Rachel started crying.

Quinn felt painfully dizzy. She put her hands on her knees and took a deep breath.

"I'll end it, I promise, but not now. I can't…I'd hurt him."

Quinn lifted her head. "So…you don't want to hurt Finn. But it's okay to hurt me. Did I get that right, Rachel?"

"I don't want to hurt you. Please…" Rachel moved toward Quinn again. Quinn stepped back and shook her head violently. Rachel backed away for a second time.

"Quinn, I won't hurt you. I just need some time!"

"But you're already hurting me!" Quinn lashed out. "You're the one that made the stupid mistake of going back to him!"

Rachel bristled. "Oh, and your well-thought out plan to pull me out of my bed by my hair and bruise my wrists was, what, exactly? A genius decision?"

Quinn winced. She tried to catch Rachel's eye. Finally, she succeeded. She'd made mistakes. She'd overreacted. She'd delayed talking to Rachel because she could never seem to say the right thing. But maybe she could change that. Get Rachel to drop this foolish plan.

"I love you." It was the only thing she could say that she knew was true and real and right.

"It's too soon for you to say something like that. We never even talk! We just have sex!"

Quinn felt a cold numbness settle over her. She knew that Rachel couldn't crawl inside her mind and read her thoughts. Knew Rachel had no idea that it wasn't too soon to say she loved her because Quinn had loved her since she was fifteen. But they really hadn't talked. Not in years. They'd avoided each other. Or fought. Or, lately, had sex. Rachel couldn't know that sex was a way for Quinn to _show_ Rachel how she felt. She'd never trusted herself to actually_ tell_ Rachel. And her instincts had been correct. Rachel wasn't interested in hearing how she felt.

She crouched down again. She was having trouble controlling her urge to run away. Rachel was placing more value on Finn's love – was he even in love with Rachel? – over Quinn's feelings for her. And she didn't even believe Quinn loved her! If her love wasn't enough for Rachel, there was nothing left for them. She reached for her bag and stalked past Rachel. She left the blanket behind. She figured she didn't need it anymore.

Rachel tried to stop her. She yelled at Quinn. She pleaded with her. She grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. Quinn shrugged her off. Quinn ignored her. She dove in front of Quinn and blocked her from getting inside her car. Quinn walked around to the passenger side, unlocked the door, and crawled across the console. Rachel thumped her fists against Quinn's window. Quinn ignored her. When Quinn glanced in her rearview mirror after pulling out of her parking spot, Rachel was still beating the air with her fists.

(Break)

After Quinn had left her in the parking lot of McKinley, Rachel had retraced her steps and snatched up the blanket. Brittany's words had played over and over in her mind: "When we weren't together." She wasn't sure that having the blanket or, later, tracing the letters of Quinn's notes with the tips of her fingers was making her feel better. But she understood the deeper point behind Brittany's words: When you're not with the person you love, at least you can still have something of them with you.

Sleep proved a challenge. She tried counting backwards from 1,000. Took Tylenol PM. Listened to soothing music. Turned on her TV and found a really boring science program. But each time she'd drift off, she'd hear "I love you" and the vision of Quinn would ghost behind her eyelids. Quinn had said she loved her and Rachel had played it off. And they'd been in this very bed not two weeks ago when Rachel had tried to tell Quinn the same. But Rachel had been in love with Quinn since she was fifteen! Still, Rachel had no right to dictate Quinn's feelings. Quinn had reacted violently when Rachel had been about to declare her love, but her response to Quinn's confession was way too passive. She wondered which of them had handled the situation worse. In the end, she could see no real difference between the two.

She thought back to their conversation and realized those were the last words Quinn had said to her: I love you. Rachel threw the sheet from her body in frustration. But why say I love you and then leave? Where was the fight in Quinn? Rachel sat up and stretched. She wondered if Quinn meant it, or if those were words that she could say on a whim, to anyone. She rolled onto her stomach and exhaled loudly. Quinn exhausted her. Made her overthink. Made her lose sleep. It was too complex, too much! And, again, they weren't even talking! Just arguing. Or, lately, having sex. And Quinn wasn't likely to speak to her anytime soon, not after their encounter under the bleachers. Rachel needed to let it go, at least for now. At least so she could sleep.

And, finally, she did. In her dreams she found herself knocking on Quinn's bedroom door. Over and over. Each time, Quinn wouldn't let her come inside.

Rachel felt drained and empty the next day. She almost asked her fathers if she could stay home from school. But she decided against it. School was her best chance at being near Quinn. She'd briefly seen Quinn that morning at McKinley. The blonde had walked past her in the hallway, flanked by Santana and Brittany, and refused to meet her gaze. It was like sophomore year all over again. She half expected Quinn to be wearing a Cheerios uniform. Rachel had simply closed her eyes and tried to shake the nausea that had been plaguing her since the night before.

Rachel spent her lunch break under the bleachers. She'd told Finn she wasn't feeling well. He'd clumsily swiped a hand across her forehead in search of a fever. She convinced him it was probably something she ate that morning that wasn't settling well. And maybe it was best that she avoid the cafeteria; lest the smell of food cause a bad reaction. He'd gone to join Puck and she'd made her way outside.

She had hoped Quinn might be under the bleachers; drawn to the spot just like Rachel. But no such luck. Rachel spread out Quinn's blanket and turned onto her side. She dozed off under the warmth of the sun and the scent of Quinn that lingered on the blanket. She was back at Quinn's bedroom door in her dream. She knocked and knocked. And Quinn ignored and ignored.

Rachel awoke, groggy and disoriented, to the shriek of the bell. She wasn't surprised when Brittany turned her back on her when she entered the art room. Rachel collapsed into her chair and faced Brittany.

"Help me. Please." Rachel whispered.

Brittany's lower lip started to tremble. "Santana said I shouldn't talk to you."

"Fuck Santana!" Both girls were startled by Rachel's response. Rachel clamped her hand over her mouth and Brittany looked near tears. But Rachel had to keep going.

"Just…just help me!" Rachel grabbed Brittany's hands.

"But you hurt Quinn. You picked Finn." A lone tear trailed down Brittany's face. She swiped at it and tried to pull away. Rachel gripped the cheerleader's hands tighter.

"Ask her to talk to me."

"I tried. Yesterday. When she was at San's. But you hurt her. You picked Finn." Brittany repeated. The trembling of her bottom lip picked up speed. "I know what you're trying to do. I did it with Artie. Finn's a good guy, so is Artie. I didn't want to hurt him. I lost San for a while. And Quinn is way more stubborn than Santana."

Brittany paused and looked over at Rachel. Another tear trickled down her cheek. Rachel reached up and brushed it away. Brittany sighed. "I don't think she'll come back to you."

Coming from the always optimistic Brittany, those words felt like a punch to the stomach.

But just because she couldn't have Quinn, that didn't mean she wanted Finn. She was going to have to break it off with him. She should've done it yesterday, even if it had wounded his pride. She could've pulled him aside. Taken him to an empty classroom, for instance, and told him the truth. She thought delaying the inevitable would somehow make everything better. It would have given her more time to figure out how to let him down gently and salvage their friendship. But all she'd really done is push Quinn away when they were finally moving forward.

Tonight would be different. She'd tell him tonight. And maybe, just maybe, Quinn would forgive her. Rachel was determined to prove Brittany wrong: Quinn would come back.

(Break)

Quinn sat in her room that night and tried not to think of Rachel's date with Finn. For the most part, it was working. Because Quinn Fabray had made a decision about her life and all it was going to take to get her way was a conversation with her father.

When her parents had announced their divorce during the end of her sophomore year, Quinn took the news very well. She'd been too busy trying not to think about Beth. Or Rachel. She still wasn't on speaking terms with her father at the time, anyway, so his complete absence from her life made little difference.

He'd moved a few counties over from Lima. Quinn didn't see him for months. She thought it was for the best. He'd badly hurt her when he found out about her pregnancy. He'd abandoned her, actually. Kicked her out of her home. She had been secretly relieved when her mother finally wised up and left him when she learned of his affair.

Slowly – very slowly – her father tried to rebuild his relationship with Quinn. At first it was through money. Russell would send his daughter checks through the mail. And, when she turned seventeen, he got her a credit card with an unlimited balance. Such was the perks of being the daughter of a very wealthy man. Quinn knew he was trying to buy his way into her good graces. But the money always came in handy, so who was she to complain?

But then he started calling her. At first she let the calls go to voicemail. Each time he left her a message: I'm sorry. I love you. Can we make things better between us? One day, Quinn answered the phone. They'd had a brief but cordial conversation. She had agreed to meet him for dinner the following week. Now, they spoke every other day and she went to visit him at least once a month.

As Quinn grew closer to her father, she was also distancing herself from her mother. She wasn't playing sides. It was just that Judy Fabray's drinking was getting more and more out of control, and it scared Quinn. She would sometimes mention it to her father. And Russell would sometimes – but not every time he saw her, he didn't want to push - casually offer Quinn something she now found herself more than ready to accept.

He'd asked her to move in with him. He knew she probably didn't want to switch schools, especially since it was her senior year. But Quinn now found the idea very, very appealing.

She called her father. He was thrilled. He'd work out all the details and Quinn could move in over the weekend. She'd start at her new school the following Monday, assuming there were no issues with the transfer. Quinn didn't think there'd be any problems at all. And if there were, well, Russell Fabray was a very powerful and influential man. He'd sort it out. She ended the conversation and felt lighter, freer, better.

Only four more days, she thought. Four more days at McKinley. Four more days of having to glance down the hall during lunch break and see Finn reach out to touch Rachel. Rachel had said she wanted to end things with Finn, but they'd looked closer than ever. Four more days. Four more days and she'd be rid of Rachel Berry for good.


	11. 11 A Grand, Sweeping Romantic Gesture

**AN: Many thanks, again, for reading/reviewing. I love knowing your thoughts about the direction this story is taking. Please note that the brief text message exchange between Q and R is in italics. I am fairly certain I'm about ready to wrap this thing up. I have two possible endings in mind, but feel free to share your thoughts with me about what you'd like to happen. As I mentioned in the AN for the previous chapter, I will be out of town for the rest of this week. I will try to have another chapter posted sometime next week. **

Santana stole another surreptitious glance at Quinn. The two girls were in Santana's room. They were supposed to be doing homework. But Santana couldn't stop trying to read Quinn's mood. And Quinn looked like she was making some type of list. Maybe the pros and cons of killing Finn Hudson, Santana wasn't sure. Quinn was just acting all kinds of strange. Santana couldn't shake the feeling – the fear? – that Quinn was up to something.

And Santana didn't think it was another plan to win the favor of one Rachel Berry. When Quinn had tried to get Rachel back before, she'd exuded a restless energy and veiled excitement. Now, Quinn was too quiet, but she didn't seem upset. She'd been like this all day at school, too. Santana was pretty certain Quinn would've heard something about Rachel's date with Finn. Although Kurt knew better than to gloat to Santana, undoubtedly the boy was making sure news of the date made the rounds of McKinley.

But Quinn had remained outwardly unaffected. She'd not mentioned Rachel once today, which was a far cry from her behavior the night before. She'd cried over Rachel. Screamed about how loving Rachel wasn't good enough. Cursed Finn with words even Santana found a little shocking. Santana had rather desperately asked Brittany to come over because, honestly, she was having trouble dealing with Quinn. But she should've known better.

Brittany had begged Quinn to call Rachel. Quinn had replied that talking to Rachel was pointless. Brittany had started to cry. And Santana had suddenly felt as if she was living in the hellish land of déjà vu.

Today, Quinn acted as if she'd never even heard of a person named Rachel Berry. Santana frowned over at Quinn. "You're up to something, Fabray. Hows about you clue me in?"

If Santana's words rattled Quinn, she was doing a damn good job of hiding it, stellar even.

"Why no teary-eyed confessions today? You're acting funny."

"I'm moving in with my Dad."

"Say again, please?"

Quinn shrugged. "I think you heard me."

Santana jumped up from her bed. "You're just gonna run away from her?"

"No, I'm just going to finish my senior year somewhere else."

"Which is another fucking way of saying you're running from her!" Santana yelled. Quinn seemed so irritatingly unmoved and indifferent.

"And I need you to not tell Brittany."

Santana gapped and attempted to speak. Quinn held up her hand.

"Wait until Sunday, Santana, just until Sunday. Otherwise, she'll tell Rachel. You know she will. I'll be gone on Sunday. You can explain it to her then."

"Wait, wait, wait. You're leaving that quickly? How is that even possible?"

"What's so tough about it? I'm switching schools. I'm moving in with my Dad. It's not like I'm planning a trip to the moon."

Santana bit back her reply: You'd have to go to the moon to get away from Rachel Berry. Instead, she focused on her breathing and looked over at Quinn.

"Shouldn't you at least tell Rachel?"

Quinn's laugh rang loud and harsh in Santana's ears. "Tell her? I'm sure she'll figure it out on her own. Or Brittany will say something on Monday. I don't really care how she finds out. But it won't be from me." Quinn turned back to her work.

"That's it, Quinn? You have nothing else to say?"

"I told you everything: I'm leaving McKinley because I'm going to stay with my father for the rest of the school year. Can we talk about something else?"

"Fine. Pick a topic." Santana muttered.

But they talked very little the rest of the afternoon. Brittany joined them at some point – Santana couldn't say just when, such was her disbelief over Quinn's announcement. Santana sensed that Brittany had noticed Quinn's odd behavior, too. She kept peeking over at Santana with a nervous twist of her head towards Quinn. Santana feigned nonchalance and gave Brittany a reassuring smile.

Even after Quinn left and Santana and Brittany cuddled in bed, Santana said nothing to Brittany. She'd tell her on Sunday.

(Break)

Santana thought that Mother Mary and God were having a few good chuckles at her expense because the next day at school, she kept seeing Rachel seemingly every time she turned around. There was Rachel in the hallway dashing to class. She should've already been in class, Santana grumbled to herself. There was Rachel delivering a note to Santana's teacher during first period. She's not even in this class, Santana muttered under her breath. There was Rachel when Santana was in the bathroom in between second and third period. Shouldn't she be on the second floor? Santana frowned.

Each time she saw Rachel she had the strong but insane – very, very insane – urge to tell the girl about Quinn's plan. But she held back. Really, though, meeting up with her in the bathroom was almost too much. She'd snubbed her nose at Rachel and made sure the brunette knew not to talk to her. Rachel had rushed into the nearest stall and Santana fled out into the hallway just as soon as Rachel was out of sight.

Santana had held firm until Glee club practice. Rachel had stood in front of the room and belted out a song – Santana had never heard of it, probably because it was beyond lame – about lost love and broken hearts and haunted memories. Then, she'd burst into tears.

Finn's face had turned a startling shade of crimson and Brittany had started up with the waterworks again, but the rest of the Glee kids thought Rachel's tears were part of her performance.

Santana flung herself out of her seat and charged over to Rachel. She clapped her hands and plastered a smile on her face. "So, so pretty, Rachel. Very touching. Stay behind and show me how to hit that last high note?" Santana gripped Rachel's arm and wouldn't let go even when Rachel tried to free herself.

The rest of the group filtered out. Santana asked Brittany to go ahead to cheerleading practice; she'd be just a minute with Rachel. Brittany had hesitated. Rachel was the one who told her everything was okay; Santana wouldn't be but a minute.

After Brittany's departure, Santana whipped around to face Rachel.

"Quinn waits for us to finish practice. She hangs out in the library."

"Why are you telling me this?" Rachel sounded both lost and wary.

"Because I'm about to enlighten your sweet ass…"

(Break)

Rachel marched down the hallway. There was no way – no way at all! – Quinn was transferring to another school.

Just the other night she'd bared her secrets to Finn. Rachel had told him that she'd loved Quinn for longer than she cared to admit. She was sorry for hurting him, but she felt so hollow and lonely inside without Quinn. He'd reacted as she had expected: Angrily. He'd knocked over a chair on Rachel's front porch and stomped away. She had followed after him and he'd turned to give her his final verdict.

"You know what? You two deserve each other. You both use people. You don't care who you hurt!"

Rachel watched him jog off toward his car. She wanted to feel sad. Instead, she'd felt relieved. She wanted to get angry over his accusations that she used people. Instead, she'd found herself more offended on Quinn's behalf than her own.

But she'd ended it. That was the important part. And she had wanted to give Quinn a little space before Rachel told her about her conversation with Finn. She believed that they'd both benefit from time to think, to process, to cool off. Plus, Rachel wanted to come up with a way to dazzle Quinn senseless with some grand, sweeping romantic gesture. But Quinn was once again forcing her hand. So be it. She'd just have to improvise her grand, sweeping romantic gesture.

True to Santana's words, Rachel found Quinn in the library. She was alone at a table in the middle of the room. The place was packed but Quinn must've used her HBIC glare because no one was sitting with her.

Rachel didn't know if Quinn was disregarding her presence on purpose or if Rachel had appeared so quickly at her side that Quinn had no chance to react. Either way, Rachel pulled Quinn from her seat, leaned forward, and pressed her mouth fiercely against Quinn's. She heard several students gasp and the librarian trying to restore order, but she wouldn't detach her mouth from Quinn's lips. Quinn struggled at first but, gradually, she allowed Rachel to kiss her.

Rachel pulled away long enough to whisper in Quinn's ear. "You are going to follow me to my car. And don't think about saying no, Quinn. Or I'll make a scene. And you don't want that. You really don't."

Quinn nodded against Rachel's cheek. Rachel gathered the girl's belongings and wrapped her arm around Quinn's waist. She escorted them out of the library to the parking lot. She opened the passenger side door for Quinn and motioned for the blonde to take a seat. Rachel kept a watchful eye on Quinn as she made her way around the car. Rachel was quiet as she drove them away from McKinley.

Quinn sighed heavily. "Care to tell me what you want with me?"

"You can't transfer."

"Who said anything about transferring?"

Rachel slammed her hands against the steering wheel. "Don't lie to me!"

"Don't act like it matters to you!"

Rachel sped up and cut down a side street. "You are unbelievable, Quinn Fabray. Why do you always have to be so impulsive?"

"Pot, please meet kettle."

"Yes. I am impulsive. But I'm practical enough to know when I've taken things too far."

"Now who 's telling lies? Why, I believe it's Finn Hudson's girlfriend, that's who."

Rachel ran a stop sign and made a sharp left. "I'm not his girlfriend!"

"Does he know that?"

"I told him the other night. Why couldn't you have trusted me a little longer?"

"You never gave me a reason to trust you at all."

Rachel bounced forward in her seat when she hit a speed bump too fast. "I hate you sometimes!"

"I don't doubt it."

"You can't transfer!"

"You can't always have your way."

Rachel turned down an alley and jerked the car to a stop. "Maybe not."

She crawled across the console and into the back seat. She roughly pulled Quinn along with her.

"Fuck, Rachel…"

Rachel put her hand over Quinn's mouth and muffled the rest of her words into silence. She tugged at the buttons on Quinn's shirt and two of them roughly came unclasped.

"You can't transfer."

One hand still covering Quinn's mouth, Rachel unbuttoned the rest of the blonde's shirt and it dropped from around Quinn's shoulders.

Rachel removed her hand from Quinn's mouth and ran her thumb along the edges of her jawline. "I want to see you."

Quinn put her lips flush against Rachel's, but they didn't kiss. "What do I get out of it?"

Rachel was breathing in Quinn's air. And it was making it hard for her to think.

She finally managed to find her voice, "Me. You get me."

Quinn reached forward and grabbed Rachel's shirt. "Lift your arms."

The sudden rush of cold air caused Rachel to push into Quinn for warmth. The blonde deftly removed Rachel's bra and Rachel leaned into the touch. Everywhere. Quinn's hands were everywhere. And then her tongue was twirling circles around and around her breast, stopping just long enough to graze her nipple before starting the process over again.

Rachel arched into Quinn. "Please! I want to see you!"

Quinn halted her movements and looked up at Rachel. Never breaking eye contact, Quinn reached behind her and took off her bra. Quinn unzipped her pants and Rachel tugged them off.

She cautiously licked Quinn's bottom lip and was rewarded with a soft sigh. But that was as soft as she wanted this encounter to go. Rachel swiftly dragged her fingernails up Quinn's back.

"Jesus, Rach!" Quinn yelped.

Rachel repeated the motion, this time feeling tiny beads of blood sprout along Quinn's skin.

"Rachel! Easy!" Quinn bucked her hips against Rachel's thighs.

Rachel again put her hand over Quinn's mouth. She used her free hand to scrape across Quinn's back for a third time. Quinn whimpered, dropped her head, and pushed harder into Rachel.

"You…can't…transfer." Rachel's tone was forceful, insistent. Quinn responded by yanking at Rachel's jeans. Rachel took the hint. She hastily wrenched her jeans and underwear from around her waist and threw them into the front seat. She just as quickly wrapped her arms around Quinn and scratched up the girl's back yet again. This time, when Quinn curved her body against Rachel's, she could feel the wetness of Quinn through her panties.

Rachel put her lips against Quinn's and moaned into her mouth. "You're so wet." She cupped Quinn's sex and whispered, "You'd miss this if you left me."

Quinn groaned but said nothing. Rachel trailed her fingers down Quinn's stomach and wound her fingers around the waistband of the girl's panties. Quinn lifted her hips and Rachel inched them down her thighs.

Rachel almost smirked at the sight of Quinn. Her wetness pooled over onto her thighs and clung to her core. Quinn was rocking her hips in the air, searching for any type of contact with Rachel.

Without warning, Rachel slapped Quinn between her legs. Quinn cried out and bucked into Rachel's hand. Rachel let her hand linger. She gently flicked Quinn's clit with her thumb. And then, just as forcefully as before, she slapped Quinn's pussy once more. Quinn lunched upwards with a strangled scream.

"Shhh!" Rachel murmured, placing her hand over Quinn's mouth. Quinn was frantically angling her center toward Rachel's, but Rachel held back.

"You can't transfer. You'd miss me too much." Rachel lowered her body against Quinn and took one of the blonde girl's nipples in her mouth. She sucked hard on the bud and bit down when Quinn pushed Rachel more firmly against her.

Rachel laughed. "You're so eager. I think you know I'm right. If you transfer, you can't have this anymore." To emphasize her point, Rachel swirled her tongue in Quinn's belly button.

Quinn groaned louder than Rachel had ever heard. She smiled against Quinn's skin.

"There, huh?" Quinn tried to tilt her body in such a way that would bring her into direct contact to where Rachel knew the girl needed her most. But she wasn't ready to give in to Quinn just yet.

Rachel trailed her tongue along Quinn's stomach and peppered wet, open-mouthed kisses against her collarbone.

Quinn still wasn't talking but her body told Rachel what she needed to know. The blonde kept frantically jerking her hips and gripping at Rachel with her thighs.

Rachel pushed Quinn back and dangled one of the blonde's legs over her shoulder. She plunged three fingers inside Quinn and harshly scissored them against her walls.

"Too much, Rachel! It's too much!"

Rachel withdrew her fingers and wiped them against Quinn's leg. Quinn was soaked. Rachel eased two fingers back inside the girl and was met with a satisfied moan of approval. Quinn's breathing picked up and she pushed herself, hard, against Rachel.

"Tell me you wouldn't miss this." Rachel murmured in Quinn's ear. She didn't give Quinn a chance to respond before bending her mouth to Quinn's neck and biting down fiercely.

Quinn yelped and grabbed Rachel by the wrist to thrust her fingers further inside her. Quinn swayed her hips rapidly. Up and down. Back and forth. Side to side. Faster and faster.

"You can't transfer. You'd miss this. I know it." Rachel again bit down on Quinn's neck. And that's all it took.

Quinn beat her fists against the roof of Rachel's car as she came with a scream: "It's not enough! It's never enough. Never, ever enough!"

Quinn fell backwards with a sigh of release. After a moment, she swiped her hand against Rachel's sex. Rachel gripped Quinn's hand tightly and pushed it away.

"No. Watch me. Because this is what you'd be giving up if you transferred." Rachel slipped two fingers inside herself, rolled backwards against Quinn, and moaned. Quinn's mouth hung open in a silent O and her eyes never left Rachel's fingers.

Rachel added a third finger. She felt Quinn's body quiver beneath her. Rachel rocked her hips in a slow, teasing way while Quinn gripped her ass and brought them closer together. Rachel reached down and danced her tongue against Quinn's upper lip before allowing Quinn's tongue to meet her own. They fought for control and Rachel was so lost in the battle that she at first didn't notice that Quinn's hands had left her.

Then, Quinn's hands were on her again. Quinn's thumb brushed against her clit. "Let me watch you come, Rachel. Show me what I'd be giving up."

Rachel threw her head back and with one final flick of Quinn's thumb against her clit, she came around her own fingers. Quinn smiled languidly at Rachel and gently but urgently ran her palm up and down Rachel's clit. Rachel's body immediately responded.

"Don't leave me! Never leave me!" Rachel cried out as a second orgasm hit her. She rode Quinn's thigh silently until her orgasm subsided.

She fused her body against Quinn and shut her eyes tightly. Rachel listened to Quinn's breathing as it evened out. She was suddenly afraid. Because now they'd have to talk. Rachel was going to make them talk. And she wasn't going to start with any formalities. She really had only one question to ask of Quinn.

Rachel buried her face in Quinn's neck. She wasn't prepared to have this conversation while looking right at Quinn. She composed herself as best she could, seeing as she was still naked and trembling slightly, and dove in head first.

"Did you mean it when you said you love me?"

Quinn's body stiffened beneath her. And Rachel was never so glad in her life that she couldn't see Quinn Fabray's face. But Quinn's answer caused her to jolt forward so that she could meet the blonde's gaze.

"I meant it."

"Do you still mean it?"

Quinn seemed reluctant to respond. Rachel was about to hide her face again when Quinn spoke.

"You know that I do."

"Tell me. Say it again."

Quinn reached toward Rachel and cupped her cheeks. "I meant what I said. I love you, Rachel."

Rachel folded her body around Quinn's and held her tightly. She wasn't aware that she was crying until she felt the gentle stroke of Quinn's fingers against her cheeks as the blonde wiped away her tears.

"It's okay, Rach, it's all right." Quinn's voice was so soothing, calming, reassuring. Rachel brought the blonde closer to her and allowed Quinn to give her the comfort she so badly needed.

Quinn loved her. She loved her. It was okay. Everything was fine.

Rachel kissed Quinn behind her ear and whispered, "I love you right back."

Quinn relaxed into Rachel and nearly purred, "Then show me how much."

Rachel rolled on top of Quinn and proved her love.

(Break)

"You should come back to Glee."

Quinn looked up from her position on Rachel's lap. They were under the bleachers having lunch. Well, Rachel was eating but Quinn couldn't quite bring herself to try the weird hummus/olive/feta combination Rachel had prepared for them. She desperately wanted a bacon cheeseburger.

She couldn't tell Rachel the truth about why she wouldn't be coming back to Glee. She settled on a divisionary answer: "I'm not ready to consider that option. And aren't you still secretly glad there's one less person who could take solos from you?"

Rachel pouted at Quinn. "I'd give them all to you if you came back."

"How about I give you something else instead?" Quinn asked, winking up at Rachel.

"Quinn Fabray, I will no longer entertain the idea of having sex with you until you take me out on a proper date. And I think you should ask me out for this Friday, as I have no plans and I would very much like to see you."

Quinn laughed. "Only Rachel Berry would demand that someone ask her on a date."

"I'm simply providing you with very good advice. Advice you should seriously consider taking."

Quinn propped herself up on one knee, gently grasped Rachel's hand, and bowed low. "Rachel Barbra Berry, would you do me the honor of gracing me with your presence this Friday evening? You would make my dreams come true if you would allow me the pleasure of your company. I would very much like to take you out on a 'proper' date."

Rachel beamed at Quinn. "I accept your offer, Lucy Quinn Fabray, and I am delighted at your request."

Both girls collapsed back onto the blanket in laughter. They linked hands and giggled until the bell called them back to their senses.

(Break)

Quinn spent half of Thursday evening and most of the day on Friday – between classes, of course – trying to find a vegan restaurant in Lima. She knew it was probably a pointless endeavor. And she had been right. How did Rachel manage to find anything to eat in this town?

She finally found a restaurant, but it was two hours outside Lima. Workable, she thought.

She texted Rachel: _Need to leave 4 date right after school. K?_

_This is the first time u texted me school!_

Quinn rolled her eyes but smiled.

_Need an actual answer._

_Oh, right! Sorry! Yes!_

Quinn fidgeted through the next class period. She wanted to get Rachel some kind of gift. Otherwise, she feared Rachel might not find the date "proper" enough. Chocolates? No, how could she be sure if they were vegan-friendly? Some type of love note? No, stupid! She'd done that before. A donation to an animal-rights charity? But she could hardly present Rachel with a printed-out certificate of a charitable contribution and have Rachel consider it romantic. Flowers? Wrong again. Flowers upset Rachel; she believed it was a senseless way to destroy living things.

She glanced at the clock and tapped her foot restlessly. A plant! Yes, a plant! Something like basil or rosemary. Rachel could use it when she cooked. Quinn dashed out during her free period and lucked up: The florist had a pretty decent selection. Quinn bought Rachel four plants. Overkill. She was going for overkill on this date.

Because Quinn realized she needed to give Rachel one perfect date. Something that Rachel would always look back on and smile. It was the only thing Quinn knew for sure she could give the girl. She texted Rachel to inform her that she'd pick her up at the curb outside McKinley at exactly three-thirty.

Rachel was smiling as she bounded out to Quinn's car, promptly, at three-thirty.

"Where are you taking me?"

Quinn grinned over at Rachel. "It isn't polite for a lady to be so forward, Rachel."

Rachel just laughed and sat back in her seat. She mimed a zipping gesture across her lips and threw an invisible key in Quinn's direction.

Quinn suddenly blushed and reached into the back seat. "Got you something." She practically thrust the plants one by one into Rachel's hands. Rachel had trouble balancing them all.

"I know you like to cook and you think flowers are a waste. Well, not a waste so much as bad for the environment, or something." Quinn knew she was rambling, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. "And food is so hard to find that's acceptable to vegans. I wanted to get you something…so here." Quinn pushed the final plant into Rachel's lap.

"Oh, Quinn, thank you!" Rachel's reaction appeared genuine enough. But Quinn was nervous. Maybe she should've gotten her sheet music! Damn, that was a far better idea.

Rachel pulled Quinn to her and whispered softly in her ear, "You're thinking too much, Quinn. Talk to me."

"Maybe I got you the wrong thing. I don't really know how to do this, Rachel! Date, I mean."

"You're doing fine. Better than fine." Rachel kissed Quinn gently on her earlobe. "I was telling my Dad the other day that I needed herbs so I could learn to make more pasta dishes. And, besides, I can tell you put a lot of thought into this. You did good, Quinn. Relax."

Point for Fabray, Quinn thought, allowing a smile to ghost across her lips.

They spent the car ride north either singing along to whatever song was on the radio – usually some cheesy ballad, so Rachel was in her glory – or Quinn listened to Rachel debate the merits of Julliard over Columbia.

The restaurant was much more high-class than Quinn had anticipated. She looked down at her clothes: Plain t-shirt, skirt, flats. Good enough. The menu threw Quinn for another loop. She decided right then and there that she never again wanted to eat at a place where every other dish had tofu as a main ingredient and kale as a side dish. But Rachel was clearly in her element. She ate so much that Quinn wondered if the girl wasn't secretly stashing food in her purse to take home for later.

Quinn was pleased to learn that there was a small lake not far from the restaurant. She took Rachel there after dinner and the two walked, hand in hand, by the shore. They watched as two small boys skipped rocks across the water and ran shrieking in happiness back to their parents.

Rachel glanced at Quinn. "I don't know how to skip a rock."

"Are you serious?"

Rachel blushed. "Even though it may appear otherwise, I don't know how to do everything, Quinn."

Quinn bent low and picked up a rock. "Come here, novice, and I'll show you."

She gently positioned Rachel in front of her and sneakily took advantage of the opportunity. She ran her thumb along the edge of Rachel's breast.

Rachel squealed and jumped forward. She whipped around and scowled at Quinn. "Quinn Fabray, that is no way to treat a lady on a first date! And there are children present!"

Quinn doubled over in laughter. When she was able to compose herself, she grinned at Rachel and said, "Does that make me the…uh…gentleman in this scenario?"

Rachel huffed. "We are both ladies. And I have made no move to…to…molest you!" Quinn started laughing again and a blush crept across Rachel's face.

"Quinn! Don't laugh at me!"

Quinn waved her arms at Rachel and sunk to the ground. She couldn't stop laughing. When she finally sobered up, Rachel burst into laughter and sat down heavily between Quinn's legs.

Quinn picked up another rock and placed it in Rachel's hand once their laughter tapered off. "Here, put your index finger around the rock. And place your thumb under it. Angle your elbow to the side."

Rachel did as she was told.

"Now, don't fling it. Just kinda let it slip from your hand."

Rachel shouted in delight as the rock skipped twice across the lake.

Another point for Fabray.

Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel and they swayed together to the rhythm of the water. A short time later, she enveloped Rachel in a tight hug. "Think I'd better take you home now, my dear lady, the hour growth late."

Rachel smiled at Quinn and nodded.

They spent the car ride south either breaking out into random fits of laughter or Quinn listened to Rachel rave on and on about her meal.

Although she considered that another point in her favor, Quinn had hardly touched her food. She still really wanted that bacon cheeseburger.

Quinn pulled over to the curve across from Rachel's house just after midnight. "Well, I guess it's a good thing you didn't turn into a pumpkin." She grinned at Rachel. "Can I see you later day?"

"It is customary for one to walk a girl to her door at the conclusion of a date, Quinn."

"Yeah…I don't think your fathers would be too happy about that."

"Well, then, kiss me now."

"Who said anything about kissing? Just because you walk a girl to her door…"

Rachel interrupted Quinn with a kiss. When they pulled away, Rachel said, "You'd better see me later today." She gave Quinn another kiss and literally hopped out of the car. Quinn never took her eyes off Rachel as the brunette made her way around the car.

Rachel tapped on Quinn's window and she lowered it to look up at the girl.

"What comes next, Quinn?" Rachel's demeanor was suddenly very serious, almost pensive.

Quinn leaned up and trailed her hand along Rachel's check. "I honestly don't know. But we'll figure it out, okay?"

Rachel favored her with a tentative smile. She reached for Quinn's hand and kissed each of her knuckles.

"Okay," she responded. She kissed Quinn's palm and took a step back from the car. Quinn watched Rachel until she turned the key in her door. She drove away and tried not to think about what would come later.

(Break)

Rachel closed her front door as quietly as possible. She was startled by the sound of her Daddy's voice.

"Rachel, were you with Quinn?"

"Daddy, you scared me!"

"I'm sorry I scared you. But please answer me."

"Yes. I was with Quinn and I didn't break my curfew, so I don't know why you're down here in the dark waiting to pounce on me."

"You didn't tell us you were going out with Quinn."

"I said I would be with a friend and, technically, Quinn is my friend."

Rachel plastered a defiant look on her face and glared over at her father. For his part, her Daddy looked back at her wearily. His face was ashen and his eyes rimmed dark. Rachel faltered and stared down at her feet.

"Don't you see what you're doing, Rachel? You're lying to your fathers."

Rachel rallied. "I didn't lie…." She trailed off and avoided her Daddy's eyes. "I…I withheld information."

"Important information! You withheld important information. You know how we feel about Quinn. She's not good for you."

With great force and purpose, Rachel slammed her foot down on the floor and prepared to defend the girl she loved.

Hiram cut her off. "You've been moping around the house for days. You're not even practicing your singing at home anymore. It's as if you've lost all your passion for what you used to value most in your life."

Rachel had a good comeback for that one: "I practice at school."

"You've been skipping your piano lessons."

Rachel struggled for an answer that would satisfy her Daddy. It was true. She'd missed several lessons. At first she just couldn't find the energy to attend sessions because she was so upset over losing Quinn. And she hadn't made it to her lesson on Thursday because she was too busy cuddling with Quinn in the park after school.

Hiram continued, "She's taking you away from the things that you love. The things that are going to get you out of this town. The things that make you, you!"

"No she isn't!"

"Rachel, she's unpredictable. You're playing tug of war with her, but she's not going to hold on to her end of the rope forever. She's going to leave you hanging."

Rachel tried hard to both absorb and discount her Daddy's words. Internally, she'd almost succeeded in justifying her view of Quinn over the one her father currently held. But then she thought of how she'd relay this conversation back to Quinn. Her first thought was that Quinn would get angry. In all likelihood, she'd even take it as an opportunity to run from Rachel yet again. This was the girl, after all, who was ready to pack up and move to a new county just to put distance between them. Sure, they'd had a couple of really, really good days together. But in all the years they'd known each other, were those days enough to discredit the rest?

As if to echo her thoughts, her Daddy said, "I know you have deep feelings for her. But you're a teenager, baby girl. These emotions are intense, I know, but they'll fade. If I knew she made you happy – happy most of the time – I'd back off. You know that, right?" But from what I understand, she usually just makes you sad."

She glanced at her Daddy. It was his love for her that had prompted him to speak out against Quinn. She smiled at him, wrapped Hiram in a tight hug, and whispered against his chest, "Thank you for loving me, Daddy. But let me figure out Quinn on my own, okay?" She felt her Daddy nod his head. She pulled away from him and turned toward the stairs. He didn't stop her as she made her way to her room.

Rachel perched herself on the edge of her bed and thought of Quinn. She remembered when Quinn first told Rachel that she loved her. And the look that always graced Quinn's face right before she came; it was a look of lust and trust and freedom. But then she considered the ways in which Quinn had hurt her. She'd left her crying, broken and alone, in a hotel room in New York City. Bruised her and pushed her aside when Rachel was trying to tell her how she felt. Had planned to move in with her father and never let Rachel know.

And Rachel was tired of being left behind! She was beyond sick of Quinn running from her. Her Daddy was right: Just give Quinn the chance, and she'd let go on Rachel.

Later today, she'd have to tell Quinn the truth: Rachel couldn't handle it if Quinn tried to shut her out again. She didn't want Quinn to once more blindside her to the point of near devastation. So Rachel was going to distance herself from Quinn. At least, then, Rachel would see the end coming before Quinn.

(Break)

Quinn tip-toed inside her house. From the living room she could hear her mother lightly snoring. She peeked in and noticed a half-empty bottle of vodka perched on the edge of the end table. She felt a stab of guilt rush through her. Was she making the right decision? She quietly entered her room and surveyed her surroundings.

Quinn weaved around the boxes scattered across her room. There were only two empty ones left. She reached down for a box and haphazardly began tossing items inside.

Later today, she'd have to tell Rachel the truth: She still planned on moving in with her father. She'd made so, so many mistakes. And there were far too many reminders in Lima of her faults: The absence of Beth. Finn's contemptuous glare. Her former coach's villainous stare. The wariness that still sometimes flickered across Rachel's face. Even the distance she had to keep from the Berry home was a contributing factor. She didn't belong here. She needed out. She just prayed Rachel would understand.

They could still be friends. Maybe even continue dating. But Quinn knew this was one more way she was going to let Rachel down. And though it was hurting her badly, she didn't think she could give Rachel the best part of her. Because she didn't believe she was good enough for Rachel. And the only way to prevent herself from staying a Lima Loser was to get out of this place while she was still able. Quinn grabbed a few more things and flung them inside the last empty box.


	12. 12 Time to Miss You

**AN: Okay, I know I stated I was going to wait until next week before posting another chapter. But I found enough time to tweak this one before the frenzy descends upon me as I prepare to go out of town. I'm hoping that this chapter kinda (maybe a little?) helps to better explain the way both girls are thinking. Let me know if you have any thoughts. I'm very pleased by the response to this story and I thank you all yet again for reading/reviewing. To those of you who review every chapter: You rock. **

Quinn was having that dream again. The one that had plagued her since shortly after she returned home from the Glee trip to New York. She was with Rachel. They were living together. It was clear to Quinn that they were living together… in New York. That was always the thing that never changed about the dream, though the rest of the details varied. Sometimes, they'd be lying in bed together listening to the sound of traffic far below. Okay, so their apartment was definitely not on the first floor. Or she'd walk into the kitchen/living room – okay, the apartment was super small – and Rachel would be brewing coffee. Still other times she'd be watching Rachel work out on her elliptical machine. Okay, so that seemed about right.

Another thing that never differed about the dream was Quinn's first thought when she awoke: It's never going to happen. She and Rachel were not going to wind up living together – in New York – in a tiny apartment that could probably barely fit an elliptical machine.

But this morning, Quinn felt different. Maybe they could end up in New York. Together.

She looked around her room. All those boxes full of stuff. Her things. She could find room for everything she owned in a tiny apartment in New York. But she was getting ahead of herself. First, she'd move in with her father. Then, she'd work hard at fixing her mistakes. And one area of improvement she badly needed to address was her own self-worth. Why wasn't she good enough for Rachel? Rachel had never told her that. Why didn't she think she was smart enough to get into a respectable college? Her grades were well above average.

Quinn had been selling herself short. Far, far too short. But she knew if she stayed in Lima, she wouldn't be able to hold onto this moment of clarity. Too many things and people and places conjured up bad memories for her. If she didn't leave, she'd mire herself in guilt, regret, fear. She needed a little breathing room. But she no longer felt like that had to mean she was running away.

Quinn was painfully aware that the Fabrays had a history of fleeing from their problems. Her sister married young and moved to Oregon to escape their parents. Her father had an affair when his marriage was in trouble. Her mother turned to alcohol. And as for Quinn? Well, Quinn had run from Rachel. Because she knew what love could do to her, especially when it ended.

Moving in with her father was a chance at something better. And that included her relationship with Rachel. Quinn didn't want to give up the chance to be healthier, more herself, stable, able to love Rachel the way the girl deserved. But would Rachel agree? Or would she take Quinn's leaving as a sign of abandonment?

She got up and dragged herself to the shower. Rachel should just be leaving temple. If all went well, Quinn would soon be able to catch all three Berrys at home. And she wanted to speak with Rachel's fathers, Hiram in particular.

She skipped breakfast; she was far too nervous to eat. She made herself wait at home for twenty more minutes before heading to Rachel's. She circled the block across from the Berry home three times. Quinn wondered if that was a habit she'd ever be able to conquer. Finally gathering her nerve and tapping into her HBIC reserves, Quinn rang the doorbell. She was both thrilled and petrified when Hiram opened the door.

Just behind him, Quinn could see Rachel pause at the bottom of the stairs and Leroy appear from down the hallway.

"Mr. Berry, I need to talk to you and…uh…Mr. Berry." Quinn moved to enter the house. Hiram blocked her.

"Daddy, please let her inside." This from Rachel.

"Hiram, honey, don't be rude to the girl." This from Leroy.

Hiram gestured for Quinn to come inside. She glanced over at Rachel but she couldn't read the look on the brunette's face. She turned back to Hiram and met his gaze.

"I'm planning on moving in with my Dad…"

"Oh my God, I knew it!" This from Rachel.

"Doesn't your dad live in Nebraska now? No, wait, that's Noah's dad, right?" This from Leroy.

"…but I'm not leaving Lima because of Rachel. I'm going because I'm tired of being the parent…my mom doesn't even remember where I am half the time…I know I have a child…but I never see her…and there's just so much here that hurts me."

Quinn let the tears fall as she continued, "But I love Rachel. I really, really love Rachel. I've loved her since I was fifteen…"

"Oh my God, Quinn…" This from Rachel.

"Wait, I thought you two just got together. Has this been going on longer than we thought?" This from Leroy.

Quinn kept her eyes trained on Hiram. "I never told her how I felt. Because I'm terrified of holding her back. I'm afraid she doesn't love me…or won't love me…or I'll mess it up. But I love her. I want to date her."

Quinn glanced over at Leroy and back at Hiram. "And I'd like your permission."

Hiram shot his eyes to Rachel, who was still standing on the bottom stair. It looked like Rachel was silently begging her father to acquiesce, but maybe Quinn saw it that way because that was how she wanted Rachel to react.

It was Leroy who ended the stand-off. "I think that our decision, Ms. Fabray, will depend on how Rachel chooses to respond to the information you just shared with us."

Quinn turned to look at Rachel, but the brunette was already half way up the stairs. She called out to Quinn. "Come to my room. We'll talk."

Quinn looked at Rachel's fathers for a clue as to whether it was okay to join Rachel in her room. Leroy gave her a tight smile. Hiram shrugged and motioned for Quinn to follow after his daughter. Quinn took the stairs two at a time and veered left into Rachel's room.

Rachel wasted no time once the two girls were alone. "Why didn't you tell me on Wednesday that you still planned on leaving?"

"Uh…we were a little busy. And you kept putting your hand over my mouth…so…"

Rachel held up her hand for Quinn to stop. "Thursday, then?"

"Rach, let's not go day by day here. I wanted us to be okay, and to have some fun. Just for a while."

"But you kept lying to me!"

"I never told you I wasn't leaving."

"See, you're twisting your words again. This always happens to us. We're never speaking the same language."

"I'm trying right now, Rachel, I'm trying really hard!"

"And I had no idea you've loved me all these years…just as long as I've loved you!"

"Wait, back up. Since you were fifteen? Why did you date Finn?"

"Why did_ you_ date Finn? Or get pregnant?"

Quinn wavered. She had no good answer to give.

"We could have been together since our sophomore year, Quinn!"

"Maybe it wasn't supposed to happen that way. We wouldn't have been ready."

"And we're ready now?"

"I am."

"I need time to think."

That wasn't the response Quinn had hoped to hear. But it also wasn't one that was totally unexpected.

She still couldn't stop herself from asking, "How much time?"

"Will that make a difference? In the long run?"

"No, not necessarily. But, I mean, do you need a weekend? A month? Can you give me a timeline?" Quinn wished she could shut her mouth, or at the very least lose the pleading tone.

"I don't know."

"Okay…fair enough." Quinn was going to force herself to let it go, to ease up on Rachel.

"What if you meet someone else?"

Quinn laughed. "There is no one else in the world like you, Rachel Berry."

"What if you find someone who's so _unlike _me that you realize it isn't me you want after all?"

Quinn furrowed her brow. "I think I'm following your logic…but please understand that I want _you_. Me not being in Lima won't change that. And it won't matter who I meet."

Quinn moved closer to Rachel, but she didn't quite dare to touch her. "Listen, Rachel, I'll only be about an hour away. It's not that far. I'll visit every weekend, I promise." That anxious pitch enveloped her words yet again.

"We can't have sex for a while…even if we do decide to date…"

Quinn flinched, but she didn't interrupt.

"…it's too much. There's too many emotions. I…I…want you in that way – all the time, really. But I can't think…can't process how I feel…won't be able to if we keep…we keep making that mistake…" Rachel trailed off and looked down at Quinn's feet. "We have sex and I think it means things are okay between us when they're not. So, we have to stop."

Quinn was silent. Maybe they were too damaged to repair their relationship. Rachel was already putting boundaries in place and they weren't even back together. Had they ever been together? Quinn understood that it was possible – likely, even – that she might not be able to answer that question. And she also recognized that Rachel was right. They were having a lot of sex, but they were lacking in all other aspects of their relationship. Where Rachel thought of sex as too much, Quinn found it was the only way she could express to Rachel how she truly felt. Fuck, they really were speaking different languages.!

And now that Quinn was willing to learn how to communicate in a way that she and Rachel could both understand, she wasn't sure it would make any difference. She might have waited too long, used the wrong words, not opened up enough. But she had to keep aiming to reach that goal.

"I respect that, Rachel. We won't have sex."

"Would you be okay with that?"

Quinn tried to smile but it froze on her face. "Yeah, but it won't matter if you decide you don't want me."

"You know that I do want you! I just don't know. I don't know if I can date you. It's not just the distance. You're right; you're not that far away. But you'll miss out on so much: Glee completions, seeing me in the hallways, having lunch with me under the bleachers. Those are little things, but they add up. It means something to me."

Quinn nodded. "But we'll still have time for each other. I won't miss out on everything!"

"I'm just not certain that it'll work."

Quinn lowered her head. "I'll still love you if you say no, Rach. I won't want anyone else. I never really have."

Rachel moved closer to Quinn. "Can I hug you?"

Quinn nodded again and held out her arms to Rachel. Rachel's warmth flooded through her body at the contact and Quinn closed her eyes. She would miss this. Would miss Rachel. Already, she missed Rachel. It was a feeling she'd lived with for years. And Rachel was most likely going to leave her with that loneliness for the rest of her life.

Rachel rested her forehead against Quinn's and whispered, "I'll try not to take too long. But I do love you. And I'll love you no matter what." She kissed the side of Quinn's neck and Quinn held back her tears.

They loved each other. It might not be all right. But they loved each other. Quinn pressed Rachel tighter against her and allowed herself to miss what she'd almost had.

**AN2: Mad props to Cate53 for the comment that sums it all up: They went into this relationship backwards. Slowly, they're getting to a point where they can address those issues by talking, not just having sex. Granted: That doesn't mean they are going to get back together. Doesn't mean they won't get back together, either. This story isn't labeled angst/romance without a good reason. I know some of you are getting beyond frustrated. Hang tight, okay? The next chapter introduces us to Russell and Santana comes roaring back again. (I actually really love writing Santana.) All of you be good and take care. **


	13. 13 Giving Back

**AN: All right, thanks for your patience while I was out of town. Only three chapters to go! Again, I appreciate the reading/reviewing. I welcome the feedback. Happy reading… **

Russell Fabray had always been a man to whom second chances came naturally. The son of a wealthy man, Russell was reckless with his life. He knew his father would rescue him from any problems, mistakes, misunderstandings. When Russell got suspended from high school for bullying a freshman, his father had had him back in school the very next day. Russell's grades were so poor that he would have been lucky if a community college accepted him. Yet his father made sure that Russell got in – with a full scholarship – to a prestigious business college in the Northeast. Second chances: Russell knew and relied on them well.

His luck ran out when his oldest daughter, Frannie, grew up to hate him. She'd married a man that Russell detested. A man who had come from poor stock but had managed, through his intellect and drive, to move up in the accounting ranks at a shockingly young age. This boy was what Russell should have been: Accomplished based on merit, not connections. And Russell hated him for it. Russell forbade Frannie from marrying the boy, Bryant, but his daughter had thrown out words like "tyranny" and "selfishness" and "smothering" at Russell. All he could do was watch as she stormed out of his life and moved across the country with Bryant by her side.

But Russell thought he'd get a second chance. Just like always. He'd begged her to come home, if not for him, well, for her mother. He'd pleaded with her – sometimes in a threatening tone - to divorce Bryant, even offered her money if she would leave him. But Frannie still refused to speak to him, especially after she learned of his affair and how he had kicked Quinn out of the house when he found out about her pregnancy.

Russell wished he could take back that moment with Quinn: Cringed every time (which was actually quite often) he recalled that he'd timed how long his daughter could remain in her home to collect her things. People, including Quinn, thought Russell was upset over the pregnancy itself. But what really had gotten to Russell was that his daughter had been careless, irresponsible. Those were simply not attributes he associated with his youngest child.

It didn't matter that Quinn was having sex. Or that she was pregnant. His little girl just simply was not so foolish as this. Was she? How could she?

And, just like that, Russell had made her leave. He'd regretted it as the words left his mouth - the ones telling her she was no longer welcome in his house - but he was helpless to stop himself. How could she have been so stupid? So reckless? So uncaring of her future?

Those were the questions that swirled in his mind – relentlessly – in the weeks after his daughter left home. Russell was silent in his search for answers, so caught up in his own worries and fears - and those nagging, nagging questions - that he did not notice his wife slipping away. He was being replaced: By alcohol, no less. When he finally made the discovery, he was too tired of it all to care. He let the alcohol have her. Vodka was probably a better companion to her anyway.

So deep was Russell's fatigue over the situation with Quinn – not to mention Frannie and Judy as well – that he put up little resistance when his secretary, Tracy, made clear her intentions to him. He was relieved, in fact, to let go of control and to have someone else make the important decisions. This woman made it clear to him what she wanted. Fine, she could have him. Oddly enough, it was Tracy - his mistress for goodness sake! - who had urged him to contact Quinn.

Tracy came from a stable, loving family. And she was still so young and optimistic. She believed in second chances, too, only she thought of them as something earned, not expected. Her positive "it'll all work out in the end" energy started to rub off on Russell as their affair continued. She encouraged him to call Quinn and, eventually, he did. Tracy kept bugging him to call even though Quinn never answered. And Russell, again grateful that these choices were effectively being made for him, left Quinn voicemails over and over. One day, finally, his daughter answered the phone. Russell was so happy – this was an earned second chance, if she'd let him have it – that he immediately apologized for hurting her. He didn't even start out with formalities. Their first conversation had been brief but productive. The lines of communication were up and running. And it only got better with time.

Now, Russell found himself having a very confusing conversation with his youngest daughter. It was a Thursday morning and the two were having breakfast together. All week Russell had noticed that Quinn seemed very happy to be living with him, but there were also large stretches of time where she'd mope around the house looking confused and slightly disoriented. In keeping with his desire to communicate with Quinn, Russell put down his paper and eyed his youngest daughter from across the table.

"Do you miss your mom?" Russell thought, maybe, Quinn's recent behavior might have something to do with misplaced remorse over leaving her mother in Lima.

"Well, yeah. But, actually, no."

"How about your friends?" He knew his daughter was very popular. Perhaps she was lonely for them.

Quinn shrugged. "Not so much. Maybe Santana and Brittany."

There was a certain tilt to Quinn's chin, a darting of her eyes, which suggested to Russell that he was on the right line of questioning. "But you do miss…someone?"

Quinn blinked several times in rapid succession and met Russell's gaze. "I miss Rachel."

"So…you do miss one of your friends…other than Brittany and Santana?"

"She's kinda not my friend. She's sorta my friend."

"Did you two have a fight?"

"We fight all the time."

"Why?"

"Because we don't know how to be in love with each other."

Russell looked at his daughter carefully. He was very familiar with the way his daughter was staring back at him. Some would mistake it as a petulant glare. Others would see it as defiance. But Russell knew this look: It was Quinn's unspoken way of saying "Go ahead and disappoint me so I can hurry up and get mad at you for it."

But Russell had already been expecting this admission from his daughter. The mention of Rachel came as no surprise to him. Quinn was probably unaware that every time she spoke of Rachel to her father – which was, again, more often than Quinn could consciously recognize – there was a lilt and lightness to her tone.

The first time Russell had heard that tone, he'd suspected there was something more behind it. A deeper emotion that he didn't want to investigate at the time. Instead, he concentrated harder on winning back Quinn's trust by listening to her. Not by questioning her tone of voice, which might have sent Quinn spiraling back into silence.

The first time Quinn met him for dinner after their reconciliation was when Russell knew for sure that Quinn felt more than just friendship for Rachel. He had been correct in his assumptions. He watched as his daughter enlightened him as to the benefits of veganism, courtesy of information she'd learned from Rachel Berry. Each time Quinn uttered the other girl's name, her lips would curve upwards in a smile and she would trace the air with her fingers, almost as if she was outlining Rachel's form. Russell Fabray's youngest daughter was nothing short of smitten. This, this he saw through a parents' gaze.

And, if he wanted her to continue to confide in him, live with him, and be glad she made that decision, Russell knew that, one day, she'd circle back around to her favorite topic: Rachel. He suspected it wouldn't take long – such was the fervor of young love. He was honestly surprised that it wasn't until this Thursday morning that Quinn first mentioned Rachel since moving in with Russell. She'd lasted almost a full week. He was impressed.

He met his daughter's gaze once more. Quinn was still frowning at Russell, waiting for him to fail her yet again. But Russell Fabray could not – would not! – do so. He knew Quinn thought he'd rage against the sins of homosexuality and quote Bible verses at her to prove his point. But she'd be wrong. Russell had never cared about sexuality. It was a non-issue for him. One of his best friends in college was gay. And who was Russell to judge? He'd had an affair, after all.

Russell was keenly aware that Quinn had just given him a gift: A chance to prove himself to her. Quinn looked about to bolt. She was ready and waiting for a reason to flee from him. He'd done that to her, made her afraid of how others would react to her, so it was also up to him to help fix it.

He reached down the length of the table and took her hand. "You know my friend, Bob, right? He's gay. And I know Leroy Berry. I got him his first accounting job when he moved to Lima. They're both good men. I'd trust Bob with my life."

Russell had practiced this speech for weeks – had even tried it out on Tracy – but now it seemed more than anything like prattling drivel that bordered on condescending. But it seemed to be working on Quinn. She'd relaxed back in her chair and she no longer appeared angry, just puzzled.

"So…you'd have no problem with me dating Rachel? I find that hard to believe." Quinn scrunched up her shoulders. She was quickly back on the defensive.

Russell couldn't help but laugh. "Because you don't know how often you talk about Rachel! And the way you do it! You can't even help yourself. And that's okay. It's really okay."

Russell leaned closer to Quinn and his tone grew more serious. "I don't care who you love, Quinn. I've made mistakes with you…"

Quinn interrupted him. "Are you just doing this to stay on my good side?"

"No, I'm doing this because I'm your father. Because I love you. And because how you feel matters to me."

"You really have no problem with me being gay?"

"Are you gay, Quinn?"

Quinn furrowed her brow and fidgeted in her chair. Her face grew red and she kept opening and closing her mouth, unable to answer Russell's question.

Russell smiled encouragingly at his daughter and tried a different tactic. "Once, I asked Bob how he knew he was gay. I wasn't trying to be mean about it. I was genuinely curious. He told me that if I were to put two equally attractive people in a room – one woman and one man – and he could have his pick, well, he'd choose the man every time. Does that make sense?"

Quinn still looked uncomfortable. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Do you know which one you'd want…if it worked that way?"

Quinn stood up from the table and favored Russell with a small smile. "The girl." Quinn's smile grew broader. "I'd pick the girl."

And, with that, Quinn left the kitchen to get ready for school. It seemed as if this was how all of their important conversations ended: With one of them just up and leaving. It was hard for the Fabrays to show emotion – even harder to talk about how they felt – so Russell wasn't surprised when Quinn ended their conversation so abruptly.

Still, Russell felt as if a great burden was being pulled swiftly from him. He'd done right by Quinn. It wouldn't make up for all the times he'd hurt and mistreated her. But, he'd just connected with his daughter. Let her know he would stand by her. And he intended on keeping this promise. You only got so many second chances in life, and Russell Fabray wasn't taking any unnecessary risks this go round.

(Break)

That Thursday morning had been a weird one for Quinn. She had not been expecting that this would be the day she would admit to her father that she was in love with Rachel Berry. She also couldn't have anticipated telling him that she was pretty certain she was gay. But her father just seemed to _get it_. She was grateful for his support, so desperate to say out loud how she felt, that she decided to accept his words at face value. He really seemed like a different Russell altogether than the father of her childhood. Quinn was not the same either: She was now more willing to freely admit her feelings than to bottle them up inside some stupid imaginary bubble. If Quinn Fabray could change, her father could certainly do so as well. She thought they might be making each other better, and that was all Quinn could ask of their relationship.

And she really liked living with her father. Plus, her first week at her new school was going well. She wasn't making friends, not exactly, but she didn't walk around looking like she had a grudge to settle (as she'd started both her junior and senior years at McKinley), nor did she adopt an air of snobby superiority. She was thankful the school had no Glee club.

Thinking about Glee club led her mind straight back to that one person who rarely left her thoughts: Rachel. She missed Rachel so much that it sometimes caused her physical pain. She'd be studying or walking to class or doing anything, really, and suddenly an image of Rachel would flash through her mind. And her heart would race, stomach clinch, body become leaden.

She was getting used to the feeling. But what really startled her – threw her completely off track – was how often she was thinking about having sex with Rachel.

It wasn't because Rachel said they couldn't have sex. Not really. She'd been having these thoughts a long time before Rachel reached that decision. No, now, it was just occurring a lot more often. It was obscene, really._ She_ was being obscene! Rachel was (hopefully) wrestling with the decision over whether to date Quinn or not, whereas Quinn couldn't stop thinking about the many ways she'd like to have sex with Rachel. The many, many ways she'd like to_ fuck_ Rachel. Quinn knew she was being crude. It was more than a little embarrassing.

But she couldn't seem to stop herself. Each night she vowed to think of less threatening things: Santana, for example, or cute puppies. Anything but sex with Rachel! Yet each night ended the same: She'd enter herself to the thought of Rachel's fingers, her breasts, the sway of her hips. And each night she'd come to a picture of Rachel doing the same. She seriously needed to get a handle on this…this…problem.

Oh, but the way Rachel's legs would wrap around her. The way her head would fling back. The way she whispered Quinn's name…

Quinn could no better control these thoughts than her desire to breathe. So, each night, she gave in and let her mind take over her body…let the thoughts of Rachel have their way with her.

(Break)

"Would you be upset if Brittany left you?"

Santana looked up. Rachel was hovering over her. Santana sighed, rolled her eyes, and prepared for the worst. She had managed to avoid Rachel all week. But she'd had Brittany as a buffer. It was unfortunate for her that Brittany was out sick this Thursday. She'd humor Rachel in the slim hope it might speed this process along and she could get back to eating her lunch that much faster.

"And by 'left you,' what do you mean, exactly?" Santana eyed Rachel warily.

"Moved away."

Santana slapped herself on the forehead. "Oh, right, this is actually about you and Quinn."

She scowled at Rachel before continuing. "And are you insinuating that Britts and I are more than friends?"

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest. "Santana, the fact that you and Brittany are involved in a romantic relationship is a very poorly kept secret, at least among your fellow Glee clubbers."

Santana wasn't very shocked by this news, but it still left her feeling unsettled. She looked around, trying to see in all directions at once. "Do you think anyone else knows? I asked Brittany to keep it between us."

"I can't be certain. Maybe. Or they strongly suspect. It doesn't matter. You shouldn't be so afraid." Rachel waved her hand dismissively in the air.

Santana wasn't ready to have this conversation with Rachel. Or with anyone other than Brittany. She reached over and poked Rachel on her arm. "Let's get back to making this about you and Quinn, shall we? _You_ shouldn't be so afraid of _her_."

"Have you heard from her?"

"Every day since she's been gone."

"Are you being serious?"

"Yes, but I'm feeling a tiny bit used by your little Quinnie." Santana pouted at Rachel. "She's always talking about you. She hardly even cares enough to ask how I'm doing. Or Brittany, come to think of it."

"What does she say about me?"

"I wasn't aware that this had turned into a sharing circle, Rachel. And I'm certainly not Quinn Fabray's carrier pigeon. Ask her your damn self!"

Rachel stomped her foot. "But she hasn't called me!"

"That is such a girl response!" Santana rolled her eyes. "_You_ told her that you need time to think." Santana pointed up at Rachel. "I assume her not calling you has something to do with your 'time to think,' Rachel."

"She told you about that?"

Santana couldn't hold back a suggestive smirk. "Sweetie, I know all the details of your sordid relationship. You guys are pretty twisted."

"What does she say about us?"

"Oh. My. God. You are draining me of my will to live! It's no wonder Quinn took off!"

Rachel took a step back and her eyes clouded over. Santana had enough on her hands with Brittany's unpredictable outbreaks. She wasn't going to put herself through the misery of a Rachel Berry crying extravaganza. She waved her arms at Rachel in a calming gesture. "Okay, okay, sorry."

She paused just long enough for Rachel to compose herself. "If Brittany left – I wouldn't care if she fucking moved to China – I'd still be her girlfriend. She'd be leaving a place, Rachel, not a person. And Quinn just left Lima, not you. Get your shit together. Or let Quinn go. It's that simple."

"How did you get Brittany back? Why did she pick you over Artie?"

"We love each other." Santana shrugged her shoulders.

"That's not the only reason, Santana, you loved her before you lost her." Rachel's voice was taking on that plaintive, needy tone that Santana had long ago come to despise. She gritted her teeth but kept her voice quiet, almost soothing.

"Fine, I'll level with you. Only so you'll shut up. I let Britt know she's the best thing in my life. And, yeah, I want Brittany to keep her mouth shut about us. But you want me to clue you in on the most important thing? She knows I'm gonna step up one day and make her proud. She's willing to wait 'cause I won't let her down. She trusts me."

Santana narrowed her eyes. "You and Quinn? You two are playing out some crazy-ass Catch-22. You keep expecting her to fuck you over and she's so afraid of doing just that until that's exactly what ends up happening. She caves under the pressure. You've got to trust she won't hurt you. Or else, what's the point?"

She got up from her seat, swiftly gathered her garbage, and eyed Rachel. "Like I said, it's easier than you think. Either you get back with her or you don't. Quit dicking around and make up your mind."

She brushed past Rachel with a flip of her hair in the other girl's face. She didn't give Rachel any chance to respond. She was pretty sure Rachel wouldn't have known what to say even if Santana had given her plenty of time to think. And Santana considered that a victory: It was rare to leave Rachel Berry speechless.

(Break)

"Are you coming to Sectionals?" Santana had been on the phone with Quinn for ten minutes before bringing up a topic that was sure to lead them to talking about Rachel. She was feeling a little (just a little) guilty over the way she'd left things with Rachel earlier that day.

Quinn sighed into the phone. "Probably not."

"You know, Quinn, there are people in your life other than Rachel Berry."

"I'm aware of that. It would be awkward, that's all…what with her not speaking to me."

And here was the opening Santana had hoped Quinn would offer her. "She sure as hell talks enough about you to last me several lifetimes."

"What does she say about me?"

Santana feigned what she considered the perfect combination of nonchalance and disinterest. She couldn't make it too easy on Quinn. "Why do I feel as if I exist in a world whose sole other occupants are Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry? It's not an interesting place to live."

"Santana…"

"She's working through things, I guess. Asking about how I'd feel if Brittany moved away. And it's her way of wanting to talk about you leaving Lima. Etc. Etc."

"I suppose it's good…she's thinking about me…enough to talk to you about it…she's not ignoring it."

Santana huffed. "As if she could let it go! She's Rachel Berry!"

She paused. She wanted this next bit of information to seem like an afterthought. "Oh, and she's upset you haven't contacted her."

"But…I don't understand! I thought she wanted time to think."

And here was Santana's opportunity to give Quinn one, last push. "Did she actually say that? That you shouldn't contact her?"

"No…but…shouldn't I give her…"

Santana knew where this was going, so she cut Quinn off. "At least e-mail her. Don't just shut down. You two have a real problem with communication. As in: You…don't…talk…to…each…other! At least e-mail her. Let her know you're coming to Lima this weekend. The rest is up to her."

Quinn was silent. Santana was pleased with herself. Maybe now both Quinn and Rachel could channel their silence into constructive conversations – together - not by way of using Santana as either a conduit or sounding board. She wanted to be done with that. She wasn't really exaggerating when she told Quinn she felt like the only other people in her life were Quinn and Rachel. And where was the room for Brittany?

"Listen, Q, much as I loves our deep conversations about Rachel, I feel that you're a big girl now. I've taught you well. Now, go e-mail Rachel and I'll see you tomorrow. I have to call and check on Britt." She hung up the phone before Quinn could protest. It was like coming full circle: Getting the two people in her life who were taking up too much of her time to shut the fuck up. If just for a moment.

(Break)

Quinn stared hard at her phone. She hated to admit when Santana Lopez was right. She flipped her phone on her bed and literally stalked over to her laptop. She tried not to overthink the e-mail she was drafting to Rachel. She didn't even hit spell check or re-read the message. She hit send before she could talk herself out of it:

_I'm only e-mailing to let you know I'm gonna be home this weekend. Staying at my mom's. I'm not trying to pressure you. We don't have to see each other. I wasn't even sure I should say anything to you, but I also don't want to give you any reason to think I'm being evasive or dishonest. I don't want to show up in Lima without you not knowing. No surprises, Rachel. I'll understand if you don't want to see me. We just saw each other last Saturday. It's probably too soon. If you change your mind…"_

Rachel didn't e-mail her back that evening. Or call. Or text. Maybe Quinn shouldn't have ended the e-mail in such an ambiguous way.

She didn't hear from Rachel at all on Friday. Quinn almost decided to stay at her father's that weekend. But Santana would never let her live it down. So she reluctantly drove to Lima after school. At least she'd be in the same town as Rachel. She'd hold on to that, since Rachel seemed determined not to give her anything else.

Quinn spent Friday night at Santana's. She hadn't meant to fall asleep at the foot of Santana's bed. Before eight at night, no less. She had just been so, so exhausted. She'd barely slept on Thursday. She'd spent a lot of time that night thinking about her conversation with her father. She was also too tense – too keyed up – after she sent Rachel the e-mail to calm her body and mind down enough to sleep. She'd spent most of Friday on red alert, hoping to hear from Rachel. And, then, talking about Rachel with Santana. The Latina had probably been beyond relieved when Quinn fell asleep shortly after Santana had pushed play on the DVD they'd agreed to watch.

Still sleepy and depressed, Quinn left Santana's late on Saturday morning. She didn't wake Santana before leaving. She drove home slowly; listlessly flipping through her iPod in search of a song that didn't remind her of Rachel. She didn't even bother to check if her mother's car was in the driveway. She'd yet to see her mother since coming back to Lima. She was not looking forward to the encounter.

It didn't appear that her mother was home. The house was silent. Maybe her mother was sleeping off another hangover. She'd deal with that possibility after a nap. A long, long nap. She trudged up the stairs to her room and jerked to a stop in the doorway.

There, sitting on the bed she'd left behind, was Rachel Berry.

Quinn frowned. Rachel was holding one of the plants Quinn had bought for her before their first and only real date. What the fuck was she doing with the plant? Quinn's frown deepened. Something clicked in Quinn's mind right before Rachel began to speak. This was some type of metaphor. And Quinn knew what this particular metaphor must mean. Rachel was giving the plant back. Why just one and not all four? Quinn had a quick answer to that: You only needed one to make a symbolic point. Rachel had come to give Quinn back the plant. Rachel had come to tell Quinn that they couldn't be together. She had come to break Quinn's heart.

**AN2: If you signed up for angst, hope you are enjoying the ride. Most of the BIG answers come in the next chapter. To paraphrase Santana: They either get their shit together. Or they don't. Hang tight.**


	14. 14 Get Your Shit Together

**AN: It feels super weird to almost be done with this story. I only have two chapters left to post. I should mention that Santana's line and the name of this chapter - "Get your shit together" – comes courtesy of lyrics from "Any Which Way" by the Scissor Sisters: "The night don't last forever/So get your shit together/Open arms are never what they seem." I figured Santana would actually say something along those lines to either Rachel or Quinn. It ended up being said to Rachel, obviously. Thanks for reading/reviewing/alerting/etc. You make this process so much fun for me, even when I know I'm frustrating the hell out of some of you. I'm not trying to annoy anyone, I promise. This is just where the story took me. I don't normally like angsty stories, so you can guess my surprise when I ended up writing one that was about 80% angst. But, just keep that other 20% in mind. **

Quinn was determined to take control of this situation before Rachel could launch into what was likely going to end up as a twenty minute lecture on how the plant signified lack of trust between them, or something like that. Quinn wasn't entirely sure how the plant factored into this, and she truly just wanted Rachel to hurry up and end things without resorting to metaphors and long-winded explanations.

Rachel held up the plant for Quinn's inspection. "Look…"

Quinn put her finger over her lips in a shushing gesture. Rachel clamped her mouth shut and stared up at Quinn. She scooted around on the bed, obviously perplexed, but made no move to stand. She actually pushed herself further back.

Quinn had a momentary lapse in concentration. Rachel's movement had caused her skirt to ride higher on her thigh. Quinn's eyes zoomed in on the spot as she admired the smooth expanse of skin now visible under her gaze. Her face was becoming flushed and her body was rapidly heating up. No. No. No. It was most certainly not the time to indulge in those thoughts.

She gave a minute shake of her head and directed her attention to Rachel's eyes. Rachel stared quizzically back at her.

"Quinn, are you…"

Quinn shook her head to silence the brunette. Rachel leaned all the way against Quinn's headboard, placed the plant beside her, and locked her fingers together. She favored Quinn with a bemused smile.

She could just lean her body down and she'd be right on top of Rachel. It wouldn't take much and her hands would be touching…

Quinn shut her eyes in the attempt to regain focus. Not opening her eyes, Quinn spoke, "How did you get in?"

"Your mom. Quinn, would you please look at me? Are you hung over? Your face is very red and I happen to know you were at Santana's last night. I didn't think you were coming home until today…"

Quinn held up her hand and interjected: "I e-mailed you."

"Yes." The bafflement on Rachel's face was quickly being replaced with her signature look of annoyance. "But you were quite vague. I did not expect your arrival back in Lima until today. I have no idea if you have any extra-circular activities that might have kept you at school late on Friday, which would potentially have delayed your journey…"

Quinn's eyes remained closed as she again disrupted Rachel's monologue. "Right, right, got it. But how'd you know I was at Santana's?" She couldn't seem to restrain her desire to keep Rachel talking about anything other than what the brunette obviously came here to discuss. Quinn was delaying what couldn't be avoided: The break up.

"Santana texted me this morning. Here, look."

Quinn forced her eyes open and stepped closer – but not too close – to Rachel. She squinted at Rachel's phone and read the message from Santana: "Quinn just left my place. Get your shit together."

Quinn arched her brow and was finally able to keep her eyes on Rachel's face…and nowhere else.

Smiling slightly, she shifted back and away from Rachel. "Get your shit together?"

It was Rachel who now looked decidedly uncomfortable; her face turning a slight shade of pink and her body abruptly unable to remain completely still.

"We…we talk about you. Only sometimes! And she told me I should, you know, make up my mind."

"And I suppose you have?"

"Uh-uh. It's been pretty obvious to me all along which way this was going to play out."

Quinn's face burned bright again, but with anger this time instead of concealed lust. She dearly wished Rachel wasn't being so casual about this whole thing. She didn't even seem upset. And if she'd known she was going to end it with Quinn, the blonde was more than a little pissed they'd waited even so long as a week to have this conversation.

"You know what, Rachel? I'm willing to humor you." She nodded toward the plant – she was reasonably certain it was the basil – and continued, "Tell me all about your metaphor and how it relates to our relationship."

That expression of puzzlement was back on Rachel's face. "What metaphor?"

Exasperated, Quinn pointed sharply at the basil pot. "The plant, Rachel, the fucking plant!"

"I still don't understand…"

Quinn ran her fingers through her hair and danced her eyes across Rachel's face. "How the plant represents everything that is wrong with us…you're giving it back 'cause you can't be with me. It's all some type of symbol!"

"Oh, Quinn." Rachel sounded genuinely sad. "Why do you always have to think the worst of me?" She stood up and pulled Quinn to her. Quinn didn't resist.

"I just wanted to show you how much the plant grew since you gave it to me." Rachel ever so slightly shifted away from Quinn, but she kept her hands wrapped loosely around Quinn's waist.

Rachel's face suddenly lit up. "You know, I could've used the plant as a metaphor! You're so smart, Quinn! I think, much like this plant, that we are growing. Thriving, even!"

"How do you figure we're thriving? We haven't talked in a week!"

Rachel buried her face in Quinn's neck in what appeared to be a way to tamper her excitement. It didn't quite stop Rachel from lightly bouncing up and down. Quinn tried desperately to stop her body from tingling at the feel of Rachel's breasts against her own.

Rachel was nearly squealing at this point. "Because! You let me have time to think, and you were willing to wait for my answer. You didn't get mad. And I've stopped thinking you left Lima because of me."

"I told you before I left – I told your fathers, Rachel! - that wasn't the reason."

"But I wasn't sure I believed you. I mean, I did believe you…but I wanted to be mad at you. I couldn't – didn't want to – let it go. It's easier, sometimes, just being mad at you."

Rachel looked sheepishly up at Quinn. The blonde swiped her hands along Rachel's cheekbones.

"Stubborn girl, Rach, very stubborn."

Rachel smiled. "I'm afraid so." She nestled her nose against Quinn's neck. "Are you mad at me for being mad at you?"

"Not exactly. I'm more curious to know why you aren't still mad at me. Or are you?"

"No…and I know this is going to sound really, really strange…but it was something Santana said that made me realize I wasn't angry so much as hurt. She said you left Lima, not me. And I knew that, Quinn, I did!"

Rachel shrugged her shoulders and pushed her body flush against Quinn's. Quinn tried not to move. There was that awful burning sensation flooding through her body again.

"But hearing it from someone else made me realize how foolish I was being. I'd been trying to punish you…and you weren't giving me any reason to…but it…"

Rachel didn't finish her sentence. Instead, she kissed Quinn gently on the neck. Quinn, startled, jumped out of Rachel's grasp.

"What on earth is the matter?"

"Sorry, you…uh…scared me. You were talking and then…not talking."

Quinn wanted to wipe that smirk right off Rachel's face. With her mouth. She pivoted away from Rachel and swooped up the plant. Time to get them talking again. Not kissing. Definitely, definitely not kissing. Not yet.

"I'm kinda having trouble with your point about the plant. You could have just told me it was doing okay."

"Don't you appreciate a good visual, Quinn?"

Quinn struggled not to look down at Rachel's legs. She did, in fact, enjoy a good visual.

Rachel spoke again, "My point is that I did come here to give you back the basil." She jutted her finger against Quinn's chest. "_You_ are going to have to learn to cook vegan food for me. And I am providing you with your first ingredient. Now, when I visit you at your father's – and I will be visiting you, Quinn – I expect you to be able to feed me."

Rachel smiled triumphantly at Quinn. The blonde nodded in response.

"Seems logical enough. But why didn't you e-mail me? Or something? Why just show up at my house? You couldn't have known when I'd be home."

"First, I wanted to surprise you."

"That doesn't work well with us."

Rachel laughed. "I'm figuring that out."

That familiar smirk ghosted across Rachel's face. "And I had some idea as to when you might arrive at your mom's. I get out of temple at eleven."

"So?"

Rachel looked extremely proud of herself. "So, Quinn Fabray, it is now just after noon and, voilà, here we are. I think you were hoping I'd show up."

Rachel might be on to something. It was far from the realm of possibility that Quinn unconsciously avoided going back to her mom's until she could be sure there was a chance – however slim – that Rachel might seek her out there. It was becoming increasingly evident to Quinn that her internal clock was set to a rhythm created and controlled by Rachel Berry. But Quinn wasn't ready to concede defeat.

"I couldn't know you'd be here."

"That's not what I said. You_ hoped_ I'd be here. Or that I'd show up." Rachel had taken to bouncing up and down again. "Tell me, did you have any plans this afternoon?"

"Nope."

"This evening, then?"

Quinn blushed. She was totally caught. "Uh…no."

"See! Told you! You came here to wait for me."

"Rachel, now you're just being a brat!"

Rachel giggled and grabbed Quinn in a bear hug. "I think it's very romantic."

"It's very pathetic."

Quinn's heart rate sped up considerably at Rachel's nearness. She gently pried Rachel's fingers from around her waist and slowly backed away. She accidentally bumped against her bed and went toppling down on top of it.

Rachel giggled again and crawled beside Quinn on the bed. She held her arms out to Quinn. "Come here, I want to kiss you."

And so they kissed. Quinn was careful to position herself above but not on top of Rachel. She couldn't trust her body to lie below Rachel's. It would have been too easy to reach up and slam her hips against Rachel. Quinn was already wet; had been wet since catching that glimpse of Rachel's thigh. It wouldn't take much, she knew, and she'd be unavoidably unable to keep to Rachel's no-sex policy.

Rachel's tongue circled round and round her own. Quinn felt like she was on the verge of passing out. Rachel's hands drifted across Quinn's ass as the brunette pulled Quinn closer to her. Her body was well on the way to overheating. Quinn could literally feel the tips of her ears turning pink!

But Rachel? Rachel seemed so calm it was as if she was about to fall asleep. There was no heaviness to her breathing. Unlike Quinn, who was on the verge of panting: Rachel's breathing had actually slowed down since they'd started kissing. This just wasn't going to work.

Quinn jumped up. "I'm hungry. Aren't you hungry? We should eat something."

Rachel blinked up at Quinn. "Uhm…okay. What are you in the mood for?"

You. Quinn nearly said it out loud. "I don't know. Maybe Italian?"

Quinn's body sagged with relief when Rachel stood up and headed for the door.

Rachel reached for her hand. "I'll treat you. We'll make a date of it."

Quinn smiled at Rachel and let herself be led out of the room.

(Break)

She convinced Rachel it would be fun to hang out with Santana and Brittany that night.

"I've missed them." Quinn wasn't sure Rachel would buy that statement.

"You just saw Santana last night."

"But not Brittany!" Quinn couldn't tell if her voice had the right pleading tone to it or not. Couldn't tell if she sounded convincing enough. And, technically, she wasn't lying. She hadn't seen Brittany the night before. She also really did miss Brittany. The cheerleader's unwavering optimism and goofy quips were always a comfort to Quinn.

"Fine." Rachel didn't sound too disappointed. But Quinn could tell the brunette wasn't overly thrilled either.

It took Quinn a lot of begging and bribing to persuade Santana to give up a Saturday night alone with Brittany.

"Don't you want to be alone with Rachel, Quinn? I'm sure you two can come up with lots of things to do. To each other."

Quinn could hear Brittany laugh in the background. She glanced around the bathroom; certain that Rachel was going to pop in at any moment. She pressed the phone closer to her mouth and whispered her response, "That's just it. Rachel wants us to hold off on the…well, you know. And I'm…" Quinn trailed off.

"And you're what?"

Quinn knew Santana was enjoying this exchange. "Santana, please! Hang out with us tonight. I'll pay for everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes!"

There was a pause in the conversation. Quinn could just barely make out the sound of Brittany's voice.

"Fine, me and Britts will be at your place in an hour. We expect you to buy us food."

Quinn ended up spending a lot of money that night, and most of it was on Brittany. Santana probably thought Quinn would balk at Brittany's suggestion that they go to the fun park twenty minutes outside Lima. But Quinn thought the idea was brilliant. She'd tire Rachel out with all the activities. And that would buy her at least one night. One night where she could be sure she wouldn't pounce on Rachel and effectively end their relationship before they could mend it.

Quinn made them hit the batting cages. She bought Brittany cotton candy. Quinn dragged Rachel to the bumper cars. She gave Santana thirty dollars to buy Brittany a stuffed unicorn. They played three rounds of mini-golf. Brittany took Quinn aside and asked for enough cash for an order of nachos and a slushie. Quinn told her to keep the change.

By the time the park closed, Rachel was hanging on to Quinn in an effort to stay awake.

Rachel pouted. "I want to go to bed."

Santana laughed and mumbled "I bet you do" just loud enough for Quinn to hear.

Quinn shot Santana a nasty scowl but the Latina merely yawned and asked for money to fill up her car with gas. Making sure Rachel wasn't looking, Quinn handed Santana three twenties. Quinn told her to keep the change.

(Break)

Quinn practically had to carry Rachel inside her house.

Grunting, Quinn struggled to move Rachel into her bed. "Are you sure your dads don't mind you staying over?"

"Told them about it." Rachel was barely awake. "Is okay."

Quinn watched as Rachel rolled over and pulled the covers around her body.

"Hold me," Rachel demanded.

Quinn didn't even bother changing her clothes. She climbed in bed beside Rachel and held on tightly.

"I love you," Quinn whispered into Rachel's hair. But Rachel was already asleep.

Quinn trailed her fingertips the length of Rachel's arm. She really wanted her fingers somewhere else. Sighing, Quinn turned away from Rachel to put some distance between them.

Otherwise, it would be a long, sleepless night for Quinn.

(Break)

Quinn spent Sunday morning in bed with Rachel. She was able to keep her libido in check. Barely. And only because they weren't kissing. They were talking.

"Are we girlfriends now?" Rachel asked.

"If you'll have me."

"I'll think about it."

Quinn laughed. "My dad knows about us. Just a little FYI for you. You'd better let me know if I can call you my girlfriend when I introduce you to him."

Rachel sat up. "You told him?"

"Yeah…but he wasn't surprised. He said I talk about you a lot. He guessed it. I don't know when."

"Ahh…your dad knows you love me! That's so sweet!" Rachel clapped her hands and rolled on top of Quinn.

Quinn stiffened but she didn't push Rachel off her. "I have to leave soon." It was all she could think to say.

Rachel rested her head on Quinn's chest. "Stay a little longer? Please?"

Quinn held Rachel until the early morning turned into the late afternoon. She kissed Rachel goodbye with the promise that she'd see her on Friday.

She ended up talking to Rachel on the phone the whole trip back to her father's house.

Quinn was glad her dad was out when she arrived home. She didn't want to have to sit through the inevitable "how was your weekend?" conversation just yet.

She had her skirt off before she made it inside her room. She had her hand down her panties before even laying down. It didn't take long for Quinn to get herself off. It took even less time for her to do it again. And again. Each time, it was always, always an image of Rachel that pushed her over the edge.

Always, always Rachel. Quinn breathed out Rachel's name and with a roll of her hips, she came around her fingers for the fourth time.

(Break)

Rachel's week was going by too slowly for her taste. And this was despite the Glee club's frequent, grueling practices for next week's Sectionals. Nor did the fact that she had two tests on Friday - that she spent a great deal of time studying for throughout the week - make the time pass quicker. She wanted the weekend. She wanted to see Quinn. But the clock was set against her. By Thursday she was in such a sour mood that she'd snapped at Tina for accidentally bumping into her during dance rehearsal. She'd stomped away from the girl after muttering a clipped apology. She was still fuming when she arrived home. She wanted the weekend. She wanted Quinn.

But Quinn only made things worse for her that night.

"I can't see you on Friday. I'm sorry."

Rachel nearly flung her phone across the room. "And why not? We agreed!"

"Rachel, don't yell. My mom called me today. She's going out of town on Saturday. She wants us to spend time together on Friday. It's only one night. I'll make it up to you. I've already asked Santana to invite the Glee club over to my house on Saturday. We'll have a party. It'll be nice. Everyone together before Sectionals. Bonding and all that."

Rachel held in a scream of frustration. "Quinn, I see these people every day. Every! Day! When do I see you? Apparently, once a week. If that! I don't want to bond with Glee club. I want to be alone with my girlfriend!"

Quinn was silent. Rachel again resisted the urge to throw her phone.

Quinn spoke up. "I'm sorry. I assumed you'd want all the time you could get to strategize about Sectionals. I thought it would be easier for you if everyone was in the same place."

"While I appreciate your gesture, I'd like you to call Santana back and rescind your offer."

There was another pause on Quinn's end. Rachel had a feeling she wasn't going to like what Quinn said next.

"Rachel, I don't wanna be rude. Besides, they won't stay that long. We'll have time alone together."

"You'd better hope so, Quinn Fabray!" And with that, Rachel hung up the phone and hurled it against the wall.

(Break)

Rachel's phone hadn't broken and she'd called Quinn back almost immediately. Quinn had sounded desperate to appease her and Rachel couldn't hang on to her anger. Not at Quinn, anyway.

Not until now. She was supposed to be listening to Blaine talk about a possible last minute change to their Sectionals set list, but Rachel found herself once again staring over at Quinn. Her girlfriend appeared absorbed in whatever it was Santana was saying. Quinn was essentially leaning into Santana's every word. And it had been like this for nearly two hours.

Rachel frowned. The worry that had first seeped into her brain on Friday wiggled its way to the forefront of her mind as she looked over at the two girls. Was there something going on between Quinn and Santana? Quinn had wanted to spend last weekend with Santana, too. She'd spent last Friday night at Santana's house! And Quinn had begged Rachel to let her see Santana the very next day. Santana was seeing more of Quinn than Rachel!

Santana leaned over and whispered something in Quinn's ear. Quinn's face instantly turned bright red. And Rachel had suddenly seen enough.

She made her way over to Quinn. "I'm going home."

Quinn grabbed her arm. "Wait, Rachel! What's wrong? Why do you want to go home? Are you sick?"

Rachel jerked out of Quinn's grip. "No, I'm not sick. It's getting late. I'm tired. And I'm done with this party."

Rachel gestured around the room. "No one has left. We're not alone."

Rachel glanced over at Santana before turning back to Quinn. "I don't think you want to be alone with me. So, go ahead and have your quality time with your friends. Enjoy it."

She pushed past Quinn and made her way to the door. She heard Santana mumble something as she quickly walked to the front door. But she wasn't going to let the Latina rattle her. The cold air caused her to shiver almost as soon as she set foot outside. She'd left her jacket in Quinn's room. But that was okay. Her car was only a few feet away.


	15. 15 Never Say Forever

**AN: Thank you again for the favorites/alerts and the reading/reviewing. As I mentioned before, this is my first fan fic. I've been very happily surprised at the response. **

Quinn was bored of looking at Santana Lopez's face. But better that than gawking at the length of Rachel Berry's skirt. What was Santana even talking about? Quinn wasn't sure. She watched intently as Santana playfully punched Brittany on the arm and launched into another topic. Were they discussing Sectionals? Quinn had no idea.

She may have been huddled next to Santana and "listening" to the Latina, but Quinn's mind was on Rachel. She was aware that Rachel was upset with her, but Quinn wasn't certain she could trust herself to be alone with the brunette. Not unless she could be sure Rachel was too tired to want to fool around.

Just that afternoon they'd been on the couch and kissing. And Rachel had remained perfectly in control of her emotions. Quinn wasn't so lucky. She'd had to more than once pull away from Rachel with some flimsy yet feasible excuse as to why she needed a break: She had to go to the bathroom, there was a cramp in her leg, did Rachel hear that noise?

Quinn risked a glance over at Rachel. The brunette glowered back at her from across the room and flipped around to face Blaine. Yep. Rachel wasn't happy with Quinn.

But that was all right. Quinn had recently discovered that an angry and annoyed Rachel was a very big turn on for her. The last time Rachel had been really, really mad at her, Quinn had ended up in the backseat of Rachel's car. And Rachel had provided her with quite the souvenir of their encounter. Quinn still had long, deep scratches on her back that hadn't fully healed.

As inconspicuously as possible, Quinn again glanced in Rachel's direction. What she wanted to do to that girl. It was downright sinful. She'd lose that skirt, that's for sure. Quinn would rip it right off Rachel. No, she'd leave the skirt on and just push it up and take Rachel against the nearest wall. Or…

Santana wrapped one arm around Quinn's waist and whispered suggestively, "Why aren't you with Rachel? She looks like she's about to eat you alive."

She was sure Santana meant for that sentence to have a double meaning. Quinn's face turned from pale to crimson in a millisecond. She was about to tell Santana to keep her mouth shut when Rachel appeared by her side.

"I'm going home."

Quinn reached for Rachel. "Wait, Rachel! What's wrong? Why do you want to go home? Are you sick?"

Quinn moved to touch Rachel's forehead but the brunette slipped out of her grasp.

"No, I'm not sick. It's getting late. I'm tired. And I'm done with this party."

Quinn wasn't expecting this severe of a reaction. But she should've known better. This was Rachel Berry, after all. And heads would roll if Rachel didn't get her way. Quinn had to admit that Rachel had a real gift when it came to the overdramatic. It was almost cute. Almost.

"No one has left. We're not alone."

A sick feeling coiled its way from Quinn's stomach to her throat.

"I don't think you want to be alone with me."

She swallowed through the dryness in her mouth. Rachel was right…but for all the wrong reasons.

"So, go ahead and have your quality time with your friends. Enjoy it."

Rachel's shoulder grazed Quinn as the brunette headed for the door. Quinn turned to Santana long enough to ask the girl to have everyone leave.

Santana called out after Quinn, "Are you gonna pay me for this party planning business, Fabray? Get people here. Make them leave. Do you want me to clean up the house, too?"

Quinn ignored Santana. She sped up in pursuit of Rachel. She'd have to move quickly or Rachel would already be gone.

(Break)

Rachel had just slipped the key inside her car door when someone forcefully pushed her body against the vehicle.

Rachel tried to protest but the words lodged in her throat as she found herself swiftly pulled around. Unexpectedly, her feet left the ground.

"Quinn! Put me down!"

Quinn had picked up Rachel and was now carrying her back toward the house.

"I will. When we get inside."

Rachel beat her fists against Quinn's shoulders. "Put me down! Do it now!"

Quinn had the nerve to laugh. "Not going to happen for you, Rachel."

They'd reached the door but Quinn took a step back as a horde of Glee clubbers made their way outside, effectively blocking Quinn (and Rachel) from entering the house.

Rachel tried to slip-slide her way out of Quinn's embrace. Quinn locked her arms more firmly around Rachel. But she could tell Quinn's grip was faltering.

Brittany and Santana were the last to leave. Santana doubled over in laughter when she saw Quinn and Rachel.

Recovering quickly, Santana said, "Here, let me." And with that she pushed Rachel higher up on Quinn's waist.

"Thank…you…Santana." Quinn's words came out in a rush. Rachel felt Quinn's arms trembling but the girl didn't let her go until they were both safely returned to the living room.

Rachel already knew what she was going to say to Quinn: Didn't you want Santana to stay?

But as Quinn gently placed Rachel back on the ground, her shirt rode up and Quinn's fingers brushed against her stomach. Quinn exhaled sharply and shivered.

And everything snapped together so strongly in Rachel's mind that she instantly felt like an idiot. Oh. _Oh! _

So that was why Quinn didn't want to be alone with her! Quinn would've probably killed her if she realized that until that very moment Rachel had forgotten – totally forgotten! – that she'd told Quinn they shouldn't have sex. But why hadn't Quinn talked to her about this? Because Quinn Fabray had the habit – the gift, even - of keeping her feelings to herself. That was why.

So here they were again: Not communicating. But instead of infuriating her…it only made Rachel feel like being mischievous. If Quinn wasn't willing to speak out, Rachel had her ways of making the blonde open up.

Quinn was facing away from Rachel, her hands on her hips and her back hung low. Her breathing was still ragged and harsh.

Rachel took advantage of the situation. She used one hand to yank her skirt and panties down the length of her legs while she feverishly pulled off her shirt and bra with the other.

Quinn was slowly turning toward Rachel. "Jesus, Rach, you're surprisingly heavy for such a…"

Quinn stopped short. Rachel grinned wickedly at her. "Finish your sentence, Quinn."

"Holy fuck, Rachel! Your clothes…your clothes…they are…they're not…on you."

"That's very perceptive of you."

Quinn diverted her eyes and stared at the wall behind Rachel.

"Look at me."

"I can see you."

"Look at me, Quinn. I'm not up against that wall." Rachel couldn't resist: "Not yet anyway."

Quinn's face turned a deeper shade of red than Rachel could have ever thought possible. But her eyes never left the wall.

"Look at me! I mean it!"

Quinn met her gaze. "Not my eyes, Quinn, look at me. Look at what's yours."

Rachel moved closer to Quinn and waited. She held back a smirk when, finally, Quinn's eyes travelled over her body, lingering at her breasts and the juncture between her legs.

"Please…please…put your clothes on." Quinn's tone was flat. She sounded closer to resignation than pleading.

"Maybe later." Rachel skated Quinn's fingers across her abdomen. "I think this is where we left off."

"Oh, Rachel," Quinn breathed out.

Rachel pulled them down on the couch and straddled Quinn. She was only slightly thrown off by the quick, frantic movement of Quinn's hips beneath her. Well, someone was in a hurry.

Quinn's thighs gripped Rachel tightly. She put her hands on Quinn's knees and rolled back. She groaned when her clit rubbed against the button on Quinn's jeans. She pushed harder down on Quinn.

"Rachel…stop…or I'll…I'm about to…"

Rachel's laugh was light and seductive. "It's okay, let go. I'll catch up."

She could feel the heat of Quinn's core seeping through her pants. Quinn's hips pushed upward in a desperate – almost furious – rhythm. Rachel was transfixed by the jerk, push, jerk, push of Quinn beneath her. She grinded up, up, up against Rachel. She matched Quinn move for move.

Rachel pinched her own nipple, eliciting a moan of appreciation from Quinn. She swirled her finger around her other nipple, tugged at it fiercely, and thrust her core more harshly down, down, down. She was instantly rewarded for her efforts when Quinn's frenzied touch landed on her ass as the blonde wrenched them impossibly closer.

Rachel drew Quinn to her and hooked her legs over Quinn's waist as she bucked against the blonde. Rachel was insanely wet. She could never have predicted that the rough material of Quinn's jeans – not to mention the way that button kept hitting her clit – would be enough to spur her on this way.

Quinn's body tensed – jerked and pushed – as she murmured Rachel's name.

"Rachel…Rachel…Rachel…."

That feeling of power flooded through Rachel again. _She_ was doing this to Quinn. Not Puck. Or Finn. No one else. Quinn wanted Rachel. It was Rachel. Quinn Fabray was in love with Rachel Berry. Rachel almost came at the thought.

She entwined her fingers with Quinn's. She captured the blonde's lower lip between her teeth and bit down just hard enough for the jerk, push, jerk, push of Quinn's hips to intensify.

"Let go." Rachel sighed into Quinn's ear. "Give in."

As if waiting for Rachel to offer her permission, Quinn let go. She gave in.

"Fuck! Rachel! Unggh…" Quinn lifted them off the couch for a split second before the force of her orgasm slammed them downwards once more.

(Break)

"Oh God, Rachel, that was so embarrassing." Quinn shut her eyes and hid her face behind her hands.

Rachel frowned. "How so?"

"I just dry humped you! I'm no better than Finn. I never even took my pants off!"

Rachel smiled tenderly down at Quinn, even though the blonde couldn't see her. Quinn's eyes were still closed.

"It's fine, Quinn, really. I thought it was sexy."

Quinn's face blushed crimson yet again. "Ugh! No it wasn't. I can't believe I…"

Quinn paused as Rachel inched the blonde's shirt upward. Rachel positioned her pussy near Quinn's stomach. Quinn opened her eyes.

"Rach?"

"I told you I'd catch up. Now let me."

Quinn gaped at Rachel as she continued her trek up the blonde's body. Rachel's wetness spread itself in uneven patterns along Quinn's stomach as she rocked herself on the taut smoothness of Quinn's abs.

She reached back and shoved her hand down Quinn's jeans and cupped her sex. She swiped her fingers in Quinn's folds. Quinn was still dripping and Rachel wiped her hand on Quinn's pubic hair to remove some of the moisture pooling below. The tightness of Quinn's jeans only allowed her enough room to comfortably wiggle one finger at Quinn's entrance.

Rachel shoved Quinn's bra up. It hung loosely around Quinn's neck as Rachel trailed her pussy forward until she was riding Quinn's breast. The hardness of the blonde's nipple brushed against her clit. She raised her body ever so slightly so as to better allow her clit to collide with the hardened bud beneath her.

This was something she'd never thought of before. But, God, she was glad she'd stumbled upon it. She gyrated – jerked and pushed – on Quinn's straining nipple.

"Ah…Rachel…no, no, no…I'm…again…"

Rachel chuckled. "Maybe you should take your pants off this time."

Quinn flipped Rachel over and made quick work of removing her clothes. She hovered sensually close to Rachel's center. Quinn's pelvis involuntarily jerked, but she'd yet to come into contact with Rachel.

For a moment, they stared at each other. Neither girl moved. Rachel could see her juices glistening on Quinn's skin.

She was the first to act. Rachel licked Quinn's nipple, tasting herself blended in with the muskiness that was distinctly Quinn.

"Rachel…I want you inside…please!"

She eased three fingers into Quinn. The blonde collapsed on top of Rachel before hastily propping herself up with one hand. The other she used to press two fingers deep, deep, deep inside Rachel.

Rachel mirrored Quinn as she locked her legs around Quinn's lower back. But she still felt like she wasn't close enough to Quinn. She needed more.

She pushed away and the blonde whimpered. Her fingers still buried inside Quinn, Rachel rotated left and brought Quinn with her. She could barely hear the moans spilling continuously from Quinn's lips over the sound of her own.

Back on top of Quinn, she used her free hand to guide Quinn's thumb to the swollen bud above her folds.

Again, she mirrored Quinn and pushed her own thumb heavily down on Quinn's clit.

"Coming…I'm going to…Fuck me…Rachel…I've never…"

Quinn stopped talking. She traced a path along Rachel's neck with the tip of her tongue as she quivered against her.

"Come with me, Rachel, do it with me."

The huskiness of Quinn's voice sent a shiver of want and anticipation straight to her core. Quinn arched her fingers inside Rachel in a come hither gesture.

And Rachel let go. She gave in.

(Break)

Quinn sighed happily. "That. Was. Perfect."

"Why, thank you, Quinn. I am unusually skilled when it comes to all matters pertaining to sex."

"I'm gonna let that one slide."

"Mhmm. Good idea."

Quinn watched as Rachel stretched. She could just make out the curve of Rachel's calves through the glow of the streetlight. But a glimpse was enough.

She rolled Rachel on top of her. "Wanna?" She kissed Rachel's neck. "Again?"

Rachel giggled. "I'm kinda tired. Ask me again in, oh, five years."

Quinn laughed. "We might not even know each other in five years. Let's do it again…right now."

Rachel sat up abruptly and switched on a lamp. Quinn blinked against the sudden intrusion of light.

"You don't mean that. Of course we'll know each other in five years!"

"You can't _know _that for certain, Rach."

Rachel moved to the opposite end of the couch.

"So, by that logic, if we might not _know_ each other in five years, we certainly won't _be_ together."

"I didn't say that! Don't get paranoid on me."

The conversation was getting away from Quinn. And she was having trouble articulating her thoughts. She'd just finished having sex with her girlfriend not twenty minutes ago – and she was eager for another round – so her brain wasn't exactly going in the same direction that Rachel wanted to take her.

"You don't trust that this is going to last, do you?"

"How can I tell for sure? Either way? Be happy with what we have now. Two years ago no one – no one! - could've convinced me I'd end up dating Rachel Berry, much less having sex with her."

Quinn was just being practical. Couldn't Rachel see how flat out incredible it was that they'd managed to finally admit to – and act on! - their feelings for each other? Such things could have easily remained hidden away inside both girls' hearts. She could no more have guessed they'd be a couple than she could foretell the future. And she had no idea what awaited her in life. She hoped Rachel would be a part of it all. She was damn sure going to hold on to this relationship for as long as she was able. But they were teenagers. What, realistically, were the odds that they'd still be together in five years? Or even a year from now!

"I need to know this matters to you, Quinn. Our future. If you don't believe in us, why are you with me?"

Quinn tried to link her legs around Rachel's waist but the brunette swatted her away.

"Because I love you. Stop being stubborn. Believing in us has nothing to do with it. This isn't a fairytale."

Rachel swooped up her clothes and roughly shoved her shirt over her head.

"Shut up, Quinn!"

Quinn flinched. "Calm down! You're overreacting to a stupid comment that you're taking completely out of context."

"I am not! This _is_ a big deal."

She wanted to somehow reassure Rachel that this wasn't about them _as a couple_. She was merely speaking hypothetically. But everything seemed suddenly way too heavy, too muddled for Quinn. She attempted to trudge her way out of his mess.

"You can't predict what might happen tomorrow, Rachel! Five years? I'm not even able to imagine what my life will be like in six months."

"You should be. Are you even thinking about applying to schools in New York?"

"Yes, I am. But are you considering any colleges on the West Coast? My sister lives in Oregon. Have you ever wondered where _I'd_ want to go? What_ I'd_ like to do?"

Rachel stepped into her skirt and dragged it up and around her waist.

"Don't turn this around on me. According to you, we won't even know each other in five years!"

"Honestly, listen to yourself! You're making some bold, bold assumptions."

"Shut up, Quinn!"

"Grow up, Rachel!"

Rachel bent low and tangled her fingers in Quinn's hair. She pulled Quinn to her until the sharp breaths they were both taking mingled together in the air. "I hope I don't know you in five years, Quinn Fabray." Rachel shook Quinn's head for emphasis as she uttered each of her next words: "You…make…me…miserable!"

Quinn felt as if Rachel had hit her in the stomach and slapped her across the face at the exact same time. Of all the things Rachel had said to (and about) her, this was the worst. It was awful. And, it was true. Maybe that was why it was so horrible. Because it was true. Quinn really did make Rachel miserable!

With that thought weighing heavily upon her, Quinn buried her face in Rachel's hair and started to cry.

**AN2: This is the last cliffhanger…if that makes anyone feel better. **


	16. 16 End of the Game

**AN: As forever and always, thanks a bunch for reading/reviewing. And thanks for taking this journey with me. **

Quinn brushed a stray strand of hair from Santana's cheek as she relaxed her forehead against the Latina.

"I love you," Santana said, a soft smile lighting up her face.

Even after everything they'd been through, it still startled Quinn to hear Santana utter those words. Mainly because, for years, she'd thought Santana could only say such things aloud to Brittany.

"You're getting soft, Lopez."

"You're lucky that I'm having a good day."

Quinn hugged Santana. "Don't forget, I'm a part of this 'good day' just as much as you."

"Quinn, you are clearly not having the same type of 'good day' as Santana. It is not _your_ college graduation. You already had yours."

"I'm not telling her I love her," Santana whispered in Quinn's ear before turning to regard Rachel.

Rachel rolled her eyes. It was obvious to Quinn that the brunette had been spending way too much time with Santana since the two became roommates in New York at the start of their freshman year in college. They now mimicked each other's worst gestures far too frequently. Santana had even picked up on Rachel's habit of stomping her foot when she was irritated.

The doorbell rang and Santana dashed out of the room.

"That'll be Brittany! It's a-gonna be Brittany!" Santana shouted as she made her way down the hall.

Quinn grinned at Rachel and motioned for her to come closer. The brunette made a show of inching her way slowly toward Quinn. As soon as Rachel was near enough for Quinn to touch, she took the brunette in her arms and dropped her onto their bed. Quinn crawled on top of Rachel.

Rachel ran her fingers through Quinn's hair. "Do you remember when you had pink hair?"

"I remember that my pink hair got me laid."

Rachel sat up and cradled Quinn in her lap. "As I recall it, Quinn Fabray, your hair was blonde again before you got laid."

Quinn grinned. "Technically that's true. But…would you have followed me out of school that day if my hair hadn't of been pink?"

Rachel tugged Quinn closer to her. "I concede your point."

"What, you're not even going to put up a fight?"

"Not on Santana's 'good day,' no."

Quinn nuzzled against Rachel's neck. She could hear Brittany's squeals of congratulations and Santana's attempt to downplay the whole thing.

"Can you believe I still have, like, five more years of this school shit, Britt-Britt? Two for an MA and at least three for a PhD."

Rachel lifted Quinn's chin and their eyes met. There was an impish grin on her face. "Do you have any idea where you might be in five years, Quinn?"

Quinn knew Rachel was only teasing. She was aware that Rachel had simply chosen to run with Santana's statement. Maybe because it brought them back to the one incident in their past that had solidified their relationship. Rachel wasn't expecting Quinn to answer the question. It was just Rachel's way of bringing up one of their favorite memories.

(Break)

When Quinn had started to cry over Rachel's admission that she made Rachel miserable, Rachel had pulled Quinn to her. And Rachel had held her while Quinn apologized: For being scared, for not knowing how to promise forever, for everything she'd ever done to Rachel that might make her leave.

But Rachel had stayed. And she'd kissed away Quinn's tears with each of her own pleas for forgiveness: For misunderstanding, for being so quick to judge, for wanting Quinn in her life so badly that she feared any little thing would take Quinn from her.

They'd never actually walked out on each other again. There were plenty of fights between them over the years. Because they couldn't really change the core of their personalities. Rachel Berry was always going to be willful and stubborn. Quinn Fabray was always going to be guarded and just as obstinate at times as Rachel. And, so, they were always going to fight.

They'd fought over where Quinn would go to college. Like Santana, she'd gotten in Columbia. Unlike Santana, she hadn't received a scholarship. Rachel had already accepted her offer to the New York School of Performing Arts when Quinn told her she planned on going to Tufts University in Boston.

Rachel was angry with Quinn for not letting her know her decision sooner. She had pleaded with Quinn to reconsider. Quinn refused. Wasn't Rachel happy that Tufts was fully funding Quinn's education? That it was her academic merit that got her in the school? Rachel had merely huffed at Quinn. She finally managed to convince Rachel that everything would be all right. She'd take her classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays and that would free up the rest of her time to visit Rachel in New York. That seemed to appease Rachel.

They were beginning to compromise with each other.

But, still, they'd fought. They'd argued about where Quinn should get a job after she graduated from college. Thanks to taking a full load of classes during each summer quarter, Quinn was able to finish her degree in counseling in three years instead of four. She thought it best to stay in Boston – she had connections there. Rachel wouldn't hear of it. She demanded that Quinn look for work in New York. Quinn was annoyed that Rachel was making this about her again, not Quinn. But Rachel had burst into tears and said she was so, so lonely for Quinn. Wouldn't she please consider it? Please?

And Quinn considered it. She moved in with Rachel and Santana and was out of work for six months. But it was impossible to stay mad at Rachel. Every time the brunette came home during those months when Quinn was unemployed and moping around the apartment, she'd shriek with happiness and jump into Quinn's arms. She'd tell Quinn how much she'd missed her that day, how much she loved her, wanted her.

They were falling into a predictable, stable pattern and they both secretly loved it.

One of their worst fights came just six months ago. Quinn kept telling Rachel that one of her Broadway co-stars had a crush on her. Rachel, flattered by what she considered harmless attention, had brushed off Quinn's warnings. But Rachel's co-star had tried to kiss her at a party – in full view of Quinn – and Quinn had hauled Rachel out of the bar. Rachel had protested all the way home that she needed to go back and say her goodbyes to the rest of the cast. It would be rude otherwise.

Rachel had hailed a cab as soon as they'd exited the subway and yelled over her shoulder to a stunned Quinn that she'd be back in an hour. And she had been. But Quinn wouldn't talk to her. She'd kept to the silent treatment for nearly two full days. Until Rachel came home unannounced, jerked a frightened Quinn out of the shower, and went down on her before they'd even left the bathroom.

They were, sometimes, still resorting to sex as a means of communication.

But it worked for them. _ They_ were working.

(Break)

The doorbell sounded again – that would be Santana's parents, Quinn thought – dragging both girls back to the present.

Quinn had planned on asking Rachel tomorrow night, after the festivities for Santana's graduation had died down. But Rachel had presented her with an opening she'd be stupid to pass up.

"You know what, Rach, I do have some idea of _who_ I want to be in five years." She reached into the pocket of her blazer and slipped a ring on Rachel's finger.

"Your wife."

**AN2: I hope you liked the ending. **


End file.
